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AUTHENTICATED APPARITIONS 



IN ONE HUNDRED NARRATIVES. 



COLLECTED BY 




HORACE WELBY. ^ 



Set thine house in order; for thou shalt die, and not live." 

Isaiah, Chap, xxxviii. 



LONDON: MDCCCXXV. 

W. SIMPKIN, AND R. MARSHALL. 

STATIONERS' HALL COURT. 






LONDON ! 

SHACKELL AND ARROWSMITH, JOHNSONS-COURT, FLEET-fcTREET. 



INTRODUCTION. 



Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth 

Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep. — Milton. 



In common questions of ordinary life, and on 
subjects of every-day occurrence, there can scarce 
be said to exist any two parallel opinions. This 
gave rise to that very pertinent axiom 

Quot homines tot sententiae. 

If, therefore, shades or shadows of opinion are so 
frequently met with on matters of momentary im- 
port, there is no j ust cause for surprise when we 
find certain disputable points received with every 
sort of tone and temper which the human mind is 
capable of assuming. Thus it is with the reception 
of the ever-to-be-controverted theory of apparitions 
and presentiments of death. 

It should be remembered that man occupies but 
a middle rank, and as Locke justly observes 

" Things as far as we can observe, lessen and augment as 

the quantity does in a regular cone ; where though there be 

a manifest difference in the diameter at remote distances, yet 

in those parts which immediately touch one another, it is 

a 2 



IV INTRODUCTION. 

hardly discernible. The difference is exceeding great between 
some men and some animals ; but if we compare the under- 
standing and abilities of some men and some brutes, we shall 
find so little, that it will be difficult to say, that that of the 
man is either clearer or more capacious. Observing such 
gradual and gentle descents downwards in those parts of the 
creation that are beneath man, the rule of analogy makes it 
probable, that it is so also in things above him, and beyond 
his observation." 

May it not be so in his imperfect idea of the 
soul, or quickening spirit ? This concession is al- 
most universally made ; whilst the idea of the 
intermediate revivification is frequently questioned, 
and even ridiculed by those who voluntarily concur 
in the former principle. 

Custom rules mankind with a rod of iron, settles 
habits of thinking in the understanding, and is 
commonly too strong for the resolute resolver, 
though furnished for the assault with all the wea- 
pons of philosophy. Hence every attempt to ex- 
plain the mysteries of spirits appearing before and 
after death is termed superstition, the bugbear of 
the people, although commonly raised by them ; 
but besotted man should remember that 

u There is a superstition in avoiding superstition, when mea 
think to do the best if they go farthest from the superstition 
already received."— Lord Bacon. 

not forgetting that inveterate unbelief is but tanta- 
mount to the weakness of overstrained credulity. 
But it has now become the fashion to discredit 



INTRODUCTION. V 

the theory of apparitions. This may in some de- 
gree be attributed to the mummery and mysticism 
with which the records of such circumstances have 
been encumbered. They have supplied the imagery 
of poetry, and have been so mixed up with well- 
wrought fiction, as to have sometimes parted with 
their matter-of-fact character. Again, they havebeen 
associated with the scourge of priestcraft, and have 
often been made subservient to the basest ends of 
ambition. Darkness has been chosen as the time 
of their occurrence, although apparitions have 
really no more to do with darkness than with light. 
This association of ideas was perfectly gratuitous, 
was settled by chance, and is, to this moment, con- 
tinued by custom.* 

There has been, notwithstanding this scepticism, 
in all ages and countries, a partial credence given 
to presentiments of death ; and this concession is 
to be met with among men of strong minds, and 
who are strangers to fear ; for there is nothing 

* Mr. Locke, in his chapter of the Association of Ideas, has very 
curious remarks to shew-how, by the prejudice of education, one idea 
often introduces into the mind a whole set that bear no resemblance 
one to another in the nature of things. Among several examples of this 
kind he produces the following instance. " The ideas of goblins and 
sprites have really no more to do with darkness than light : yet let but a 
foolish maid inculcate these often on the mind of a child, and raise 
them there together, possibly he shall never be able to separate them 
again so long he lives; but darkness shall ever afterwards bring 
with it those frightful ideas, and they shall be so joined, that he can 
no more bear the one than the other." 



VI INTRODUCTION. 

irreconcilable or inconsistent with common reason- 
ing to suppose, that the Being who is omniscient, 
omnipresent, and omnipotent, is as capable of ex- 
tinguishing and quickening the soul in an inter- 
mediate state of existence,* as he is of creating it in 
the first instance, and rendering it subject and 
subordinate to his will. But sceptics will say, how 
are we to ascertain this point ? This is difficult of 
solution for the reasons already quoted from Locke, 
and on account of the impossibility of establishing 
cause and effect without being able to refer it to a 
simple and definite origin. Is it then to be allowed, 
that because the mischievous waggery of a few im- 
potent reasoners, (who have got out of their depth 
in this matter) has contrived to hoax mankind in 
some instances, the whole theory is to be rejected 
as worse than fabulous. No ! we might almost as 
well urge, that because all alleged offenders are not 
found guilty on trial, the scheme is altogether false, 
and in no instance worthy of our credence or re- 
spect. Hence, the folly and weakness of taking 
for granted all that we read ; and hence, the com- 
mon interest of every one to weigh and consider.t 
I am aware that the free expression of such 
analogies as the foregoing, is calculated to startle 
some who have thought listlessly on my subject, 

* Intermediate is not altogether the phrase here understood, be- 
cause death should only be considered as an incident in one course of 
existence. f Bacon. 



INTRODUCTION. vii 

and others who have given it more serious attention. 
Several writers have set out to elucidate the ques- 
tion, but have left it in a more confused and less 
decided state than they found it. Tnis, of a truth, 
is " fishing in troubled waters." Others have been 
so far convinced on the matter as to avow their 
assent, which has drawn upon them the anathemas of 
their arrogant successors,* who have classed them 
among the " credulous and superstitious;" and a still 
greater number have started in their task w r ith pre- 
judice, and prepossession for ridicule, which has 
precluded every liberal opinion on the topic, and 
rendered them unworthy of notice, otherwise than 
as objects for our scorn and contempt. 

But as this little volume is a collection of facts, 
and not of reasonings, this argument may perhaps 
appear rather as a digression. I shall, therefore, 
proceed to illustrate the subject from the principal 
authors who have treated on it, and leave the reader 
to form his own inferences and analogies. 

The opinions of the antients as to the disposal of the soul 
are curious and interesting; but here their value ceases. They 
imagine that the soul wandered about in the ali% till such time 
as the body obtained its due funeral rites : from this notion, 

* There is a vague opinion abroad, that the world improves with 
its age : i. e. that mankind are wiser in the nineteenth than in the 
eighteenth century. — As participators in such distinction, our vanity 
prompts us to assent, without examination. Again, superstition is 
for the most part an arbitrary assumption, founded oa modes of 
belief, which, in themselves are unsettled. 



Vlll INTRODUCTION*. 

the friends of the deceased were concerned to see the funeral 
pile erected for their departed friends, and to have the body 
honourably burned ; then the ashes of the bones were depo- 
sited in an urn, and that urn buried in the earth : when this 
was done the soul was admitted to pass the flood, to be trans- 
ported into the Elysian fields, from whence they never should 
return any more : but in case these rites were not performed 
for any person, the soul wandered restless, and unfixed, in a 
state of perplexity, for an hundred years : — 

Usee omnis, quam cernis inops inhumataque turba est : 

Portitor ille, Charon : hi, quos veluit unda, sepulti. 

Nee ripas datur horrandas nee rauca fluenta 

Transportare prius, quam sedibus ossa quierunt. 

Centum errant annos, volitantque haec littora eircum : 

Turn demum admissi stagna exoptata revisunt. Virgil. 

Now between this time, or during this interval, that is to 
say, between death and the funeral pile, they pretended they 
allowed the separated or unembodied souls of men might ap- 
pear, and visit their friends, or harass their enemies ; and on 
this occasion, the ghost of Patroclus, slain by Hector at the 
Siege of Troy, is brought in visiting his friend Achilles, and 
begging of him to get his funeral rites performed, that he 
might be admitted to rest : 

Thus the phantom said, 
Sleeps my Achilles, his Patroclus dead? 
Living, I seemed his dearest, tenderest care, 
But now forgot, I wander in the air : 
Let my pale corpse the rights of burial know, 
And give me entrance into the shades below ; 
'Till then the spirit finds no resting place, 
But here and there th' unbodied spectres chace 
The vagrant dead Iliad, lib. xxxiii. 

Homer's idea of the state of the dead, was something 
like the antient philosophy of the Egyptians, which gave the 
soul a shape like the body, and that it was only a receptacle 
of the mind ; the mind they made to be the sublime and su- 
perior part, and that only. 

Thus in the case of apparitions, they allowed that this case 
or shell called the soul, might appear after death, but the mind 



INTRODUCTION. J* 

could not, but was exalted among the gods, and took up its 
eternal abode from whence — " It could return no more." 

Luther in his " Colloquia Mensalia," says, " when I lived 
at Zurica, in Franconia, a child that could hardly speak or 
walk was got into a wood near the house, (there are forests 
every where in that country) an unexpected snow covering 
and altering the surface of the ground, the child could not 
find the way back again to the house. The snow continuing 
to fall in great abundance, he remained there covered over 
with it two days and three nights. During that time an un- 
known man brought him meat and drink ; but at the begin- 
ning of the third day, he led the child near his father's house, 
and there left him. I was present when he came in, and I 
protest he told all that had happened to him, as clearly and in 
as good terms as I could have done myself; notwithstanding 
from that time for three whole years, he was not capable of 
putting any words together, that one could easily understand. 
I am therefore persuaded (adds Luther) that the man that 
preserved him was a good angel." 

Tasso, the prince of Italian poets, asserted that he was 
constantly attended by a good genius, with whom he had fa- 
miliar converse. Socrates owned that he had a guardian 
angel that preserved him. Simonldes had also a good genius, 
for according to Valerius Maximus, he or it forced him out 
of a house which fell down a moment after. Valerius Max- 
imus describes 11 ch. 5, the ghost, or caco-daemon, which 
Casrius Severus, of Parma, saw. As Augustus had sent to 
kill him, this spirit was supposed to be a forewarner. Poky 
relates of an Athenian ghost, who wandered visibly about the 
house rattling his chains. 

Josephus relates that Glaphyra, the daughter of king Ar- 
chelaus, after the death of her two first husbands (being mar- 
ried to a third, who was brother to her first^ husband, and so 
passionately in love with her, that he turned off his former 
wife to make room for this marriage) had a very odd kind of 
dream. She fancied that she saw her first husband coming 
towards her, and that she embraced him with great tender- 

a 3 



X INTRODUCTION. 

ness ; when in the midst of the pleasure which she expressed 
at the sight of him, he reproached her after the following 
manner ; " Glaphyra," says he, " thou hast made good the 
old saying, that women are not to be trusted. Was not I the 
husband of thy virginity ? Have I not children by thee ? 
How couldst thou forget our loves so far as to enter into a 
second marriage, and after that into a third, nay to take for 
thy husband a man who has so shamelessly crept into the bed 
of his brother ? However, for the sake of our passed loves, 
I shall free thee from thy present reproach, and make thee 
mine for ever." Glaphyra told this dream to several women 
of her acquaintance, and died soon after. 

Addison, in one of his papers in the Spectator, (No. 110.) 
where the scene is laid in the country, at the house of Sir 
Roger de Coverley, in Worcestershire, observes, that they are 
more excuseable who believe in apparitions, than those who 
reject all extraordinary revelations of this kind, contrary to 
the reports of all historians, sacred and profane, ancient and 
modern, and to the traditions of all nations, and think the 
appearance of spirits fabulous and groundless. Could we not 
give ourselves up to the general testimony of mankind, we 
should to the relations of particular persons who are living, and 
whom we know, and cannot distrust in other matters of fact. 

Lucretius, though by the course of his philosophy he was 
obliged to maintain, that the soul did not exist separate from 
the body, makes no doubt of the reality of apparitions, and 
that men have often appeared after their death. He tells us, 
that the surfaces of all bodies are perpetually flying off from 
their respective bodies, one after another; and that these 
surfaces, or thin cases, that included each other whilst they 
were joined in the body like the coats of an onion, are some- 
times seen intire when they are separated from it; by which 
means he pretended to account for the appearance of the 
shapes of deceased or absent persons. 

Dr. Ferrier, in his Essay on Ajiparitions, observes, that the 
18th century has produced a learned, and what is still more, 
a fashionable theorist in support of this doctrine ; and this is 



INTRODUCTION*. xi 

no other than the celebrated Lavater * of Zuric. This 
writer, generally interesting and instructive, often enthusiastic, 
but always amiable, may possibly give a turn to the fortune of 
an opinion that many persons are more willing to destroy, 
than able to confute. He applies this doctrine, in some 
measure, to the theory of spectral phenomena, which is like- 
wise the doctrine of Fiexus, Lord Verulam, Dr. Henry 
More, and others. 

The book of Job, the antiquity of which is supposed by 
some coeval with Moses, is full to the purpose, who had 
read particularly the thirty-third chapter, where Eliphaz ob- 
serves, that God oftentimes calls man to repentance by visions 
and dreams. 

Dr. Blair, in his poem of the Grave, says : — 

Tell us. ye dead, if ye in pity can, 

Beyond this sphere what is the future plan ; 

Some courteous ghost, if any such there be, 

Tell us in after- life, what things ye see ; 

For some of you, we knew in days of old, 

The fatal story to mankind have told ; 

Forewarning them of death — Oh then comply, 

And teil in charity, what 'tis to die ; — 

But you're withheld, no matter, death must call, 

The curtain drop, and time will clear up all. 

It is the common opinion of the Turks and Persians, that 
near the close of life, eyery person has some sort of extraordi- 
nary revelation of that event. Even the most antient of their 
writings prove this. Herbf.lot, in his oriental library re- 
lates, the Sultan Moctandi Bemvilla, as he rose one day from 
table, said to one of his wives who was present, who are these 
people that are come in here without leave? Upon looking 
round, she could see no one, but observed that he grew pale, 
and immediately fell down dead. The Mahometan writings 
are full of narratives, which shew that the doctrine of spirits 
has, from the earliest times, prevailed amongst them. 

* An author of the same name very early in the last century pub- 
lished a comp!e;e treatise on the subject in Latin, intitled, De 

Speeds. 



XII INTRODUCTION, 

Olaus Magnus, who was Archbishop of Upsal, in his work 
upon the antiquity of the Northern nations, observes, that in 
Sweden, Norway, Finland, and Lapland, there are frequently 
seen spirits, or spectres, who are very troublesome to such as 
are there indued with what, with us, goes by the name of , the 
second sight. 

The Laplanders, both such as profess Christianity, and such 
as continue in idolatry, have a strong belief in apparitions of 
departed souls. 

. The well known opinion of Dr. Johnson on this subject, 
is contained in the following argument. 

The credibility of spectral appearances has been argued on 
extensive grounds. We are told it is not the notion of a few 
individuals only — it has been the belief of all ages and nations. 
In every country where mankind have believed at all in a fu- 
ture state, and the separate existence of souls, the opinion has 
prevailed that the spirits of the dead may have communica- 
tion with the living. There is, it is said, no people, whether 
rude or learned, however remote or insulated, among whom 
such instances have not been related and believed. Whence 
could arise this general agreement among nations so distant 
from each other, and having no intercourse, no bond of con- 
nection, but a common nature, and a common destiny? Dif- 
fering widely from each other in almost all other things, their 
testimony on this extraordinary subject has been the same. 
Would this notion have become universal, if it were not 
founded in truth ? Would so many nations who had never 
heard of one another, have agreed in one tale, if fact and 
experience had not given it credibility ? The doubts and 
cavils of the few cannot set aside the testimony of the many, 
especially as we know there is not a small number of mankind, 
who, though they deny it with their tongues, betray plainly 
enough by their fears, they believe it with their hearts. 

Stackhouse, the erudite historian of the Bible, asserts the 
reality of spectral appearances. He says " that the souls of 
men departed have a capacity, and no doubt an inclination, 
to be employed in the service of men alive, as having the 
same nature and affections, and being more sensible of our 



INTRODUCTION. X1U 

infirmities than any pure and abstracted spirits are, can hardly 
be contested; that in their absent state, they are embodied 
with aerial or etherial vehicles, which they can condense or 
rarefy at pleasure, and so appear or not appear to human sight, 
is what some of the greatest men, both of the heathen and 
Christian religions have maintained; and that frequent appa- 
ritions of this kind have happened, since the world began ^ 
cannot be denied by any who is conversant in its history." 

The cautious Orton in his exposition of the 28th chapter 
of the first book of Samuel says, " with regard to apparitions, 
this story seems to me to prove that God, for wise and good 
reasons, may suffer spirits to take some vehicle, or light body 
by which they may become objects of sense, and be capable of 
conversing with us. Such instances I believe have been ; yet 
never but on extraordinary occasions." 

I might crowd my pages with theories and opi- 
nions of writers of equal celebrity, and authenti- 
cated character. It will suffice for me to illustrate 
in a cursory manner, the principal authorities 
quoted in the following sheets. Among these are, 
Beaumont s History of Apparitions ; GlanviFs Sa- 
ducissimus Triumphatus ; Baxters Visits from 
the World of Spirits; Sinclair s Invisible World, 
&c. 

Beaumont's Volume is the chef d'oeuvre of a 
man of talent, but w T hose modes of reasoning have 
led him into many vulgar errors. His book is 
overcharged w r ith witchcraft and abstruse reading ; 
but some few of his relations will be perused with 
interest, and his " Confession, 1 ' page 165, is alto- 
gether the result of unshaken conviction. In short, 
he feels what he writes, but his enthusiasm occa- 



XIV INTRODUCTION. 

sionally carries him beyond ^the bounds of proba- 
bility and credible circumstance. 

Glanvil was an English Divine of some note, 
born at Plymouth, in 1636. He was first of 
Exeter College, Oxford, and afterwards of Lin- 
coln College. At the Restoration he became a 
member of the Royal Society, being a zealous ad- 
vocate for the new philosophy. In 1666 he was 
presented to the Rectory of the Abbey Church, 
at Bath ; about which time he published his first 
edition of Sadiicissimus Triumphatus^ which ex- 
tended to three editions. Besides this, he wrote 
several pieces in defence of revealed religion and 
experimental philosophy. His work is too positive 
in its inferences, notwithstanding as an assem- 
blage of facts connected with narratives of prog- 
nostications of death and apparitions, it is highly 
curious, and in many instances to be relied on. 
The greatest blow to his fame was the implicit cre- 
dence which he gave to the memorable story of the 
Demon of Tedworth, which certainly savours of the 
marvellous. It nevertheless has many reconcile- 
able facts, and as it is one of the most popular nar- 
ratives on record, I have given it place in this 
collection. 

Baxters Visits from the World of Spirits was 
first published in 179 1, and is prefaced by a sober 
dissertation on the theories of different writers 
on the subject. The narratives are, however, for 



INTRODUCTION. XV 

the most part, compiled from Sinclair's Invisible 
World, small 8vo. with several engravings. These 
works are unquestionably of more moderate and 
probable character than either of the preceding, 
and hence they are more interesting and important. 
I have therefore extracted their quintessence, by 
adapting their relations, in language suitable to the 
taste of readers in the present day. 

The narratives of a few irrational frolics have 
been introduced with a view to expose the waggery 
of those who have calculated too largely on the 
credulity of mankind ; and to caution the reader 
against inconsistencies and discrepancies, which 
may not be evident at first sight. This is pecu- 
liarly instanced in the " Abbey Vault" in which 
every circumstance is accounted for, and nothing 
remains unexplained. 

The last writer on my subject is Dr. Samuel 
Hibbert, f.r.s.e. &c, who, in 1 S24, published 
his u Sketches of the Philosophy of Apparitions? 
a work displaying the most erudite research, and 
evidently the result of tedious and unwearied in^ 
vestigation. In this volume, Dr. Hibbert has en- 
deavoured to trace apparitions to their physical 
causes ; and he has partly succeeded, especially as 
regards dreams and the co-operation of morbific and 
moral causes of mental excitement. But he is evi- 
dently prepossessed on his subject, and joins in 
the general sarcasm aimed at it, except in those 



XY1 INTBODUCTION. 

cases where his own professional acquirements assist 
his discrimination. 

It now only remains for me to commend my little 
Tolume to the liberal reader. In no instance have 
I pressed my enquiries into metaphysical research, 
because I wish the circumstances to speak for 
themselves. I am aware that I have much scep- 
ticism and ill-will to combat; and above all 9 that I 
have the conceit of hundreds of contemporaries to 
withstand. 

The candid reader will, however, appreciate my 
motive ; and " if any man thinks these facts in- 
credible, let him enjoy his own opinion to himself, 
but let him not endeavour to disturb the belief of 
others, who by instances of this nature are excited 
to the study of virtue." 

With this purity of conscience and rectitude of 
intention, and confiding my volume to such liberal 
minds, I trust that it will meet with their favour- 
able consideration. 

HORACE WELBY. 

London 
January, ]&2o. 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

Ominous Composition of Hogarth's Tail- Piece 21 

Discovery of a Murder, by an Apparition, at Chester, in 1632 25 

Apparition and Highwayman, in Guildford Gaol 20 

The Avarice of a Step-mother, defeated by the Apparition of 

her Son, whom she had attempted to disinherit ' 28 

The Two Brothers 36 

Apparition at Star-Cross, Devonshire, in 1823 40 

Apparition of Mrs. Pearson to her Father, Dr. Farrar, in 1678 44 
The Drummer or Demon of Tedworth, Wilts, at the House 

of Mr. John Mompesson, as related by Glanvil 44 

Murder committed in Lancashire, by a Clerk and Sexton, dis- 
covered to the Curate of the Parish 57 

Warning to James the Fourth, at Linlithgow, as related by- 
Buchanan 58 

Apparition at Belfast, in Ireland 59 

J Extraordinary Presentiment of Death, to a Merchant's Ap- 
prentice . . . . , ... 60 

yi Apparition to Miss Lee, Daughter of Sir C. Lee, in 1662. ... 63 

> Prognosticated Death of Counsellor John Bourne 64 

Omens of the Murder of Mr. Blandy, at Henley, Oxon .... 64 

Presages of Victory to Robert Bruce, of Scotland 66 

/> Omens of the Fate of Captain Porteous, at Edinburgh 67 

Vision of Theodosius, the Roman Emperor 70 

Apparition of Captain Sydenham to Captain Dyke 73 

Letter written by James Earl of Marlborough, a few days 

previous to his Death, in 1665 7£ 

Apparition of Mr. Wynyard, to Sir John Sherbroke and Gen. 1 

Wynyard 77 



XVlll CONTENTS. 

Apparition of a Murderer to Mr. Thomas Goddard, of Marl- 
borough, Wilts ; from Glanvil 82 

^"Apparition of a Mother to her Son, while at Sea 87 

Narrative of Disturbances at Little Burton, Somerset, in 1677; 

from Glanvil 88 

Apparition seen by David Hunter, Neatherd, at Portmore, in 

Ireland 93 

Extraordinary Presages to the Commissioners of Woods and 

Forests, at Woodstock, Oxon, in 1649 95 

Apparition of the Duchess of Mazarine to Madame de Beau- 

clair ; Mistresses of Charles the Second 1 00 

Apparition of Sir George Villiers, to the Servant of the first 
Duke of Buckingham, with other Omens of his Assassi- 
nation, by Felton >..... 105 

Apparition of Mrs. to Dr. Donne, related by Isaac Walton. . 108 

Murder prevented by a Dream of Mr. Thornton, at Fulham. 109 

Curious Recovery of a Title-Deed, by an Apparition to Dr. 

Scott Ill 

Apparition seen by a Boy, as related by the Rev. Mr. Ruddle, 

at Launceston, in Cornwall, in 1665 118 

Apparition of Miss Pringle to her Father, in 1745 126 

Apparition seen by Count Falkesheim, Professor of Moral 

Philosophy at Konigsberg > 127 

The Rochester Apparition ; in a Letter from the Rev. T. Til- 
son, of Aylsworth, Kent 1 32 

Apparition seen by Casbio Burroughs ] 3.5 

Apparition to Capt. Rogers, in a Voyage from England to 

Virginia ..... 136 

-^-Apparition of Lord Bacon to Lord Middleton, as related by 

Sir W. Dugdale J38 

Apparition of Henry, to his Cousin, Dr. Jacob, at Canterbury. 139 

Apparition of Robert Nelson, Esq. to Lady E. Hastings 140 

Fortunate Dream of an English Merchant, by which be es- 
caped Assassination 141 

Discovery of the Murderers of Mr. Stockden, of Cripplegate 144 



CONTENTS. XIX 

Page. 

Omens of Murders, from Baker's Chronicle 145 

Apparition of James Haddock to Francis Taverner, in 1662. 147 
Apparition to Capt. Henry Bell, as related in Luther's Table 

Talk 152 

Memoir of Lady Davies, of Prophetic celebrity 154 

Apparition of Lord Mohun to his Mistress 155 

Omen to Mrs. Stephens, of Spitalfields 156 

The Parliamentary Arrest 157 

— --apparition seen by Richard Bovet, in 1867 159 

Apparition seen by the late Marquis of Londonderry 162 

Confession of John Beaumont, Author of the t( Treatise on 

Spirits and Apparitions M 165 

Apparition of Robert Lindsay, Esq., of Edinburgh, to his 

Friend at Paris 167 

Apparition seen by Mr. B. L. in York Cathedral 168 

Prognosticated Death, from Aubrey's Miscellanies 170 

Apparitions recorded in BoswelPs Life of Johnson ; Edward 
Cave, the Printer, at St. John's Gate ; Pendergast, an 

Officer in the Army, and Parson Ford 171-2 

Extraordinary Case of Anne Taylor, of Tiverton, in 1S14 . . 173 
Apparition seen by Lady Pennyman and Mrs Atkins, at Lisle 174 

The Midnight Storm, translated from the French IS J 

Apparition seen by Mr. Walker, Curate of Warblington, Hants 192 

Lord Orrery, and the Irish Butler 197 

Apparition of Lord Tyrone to Lady B?resford 200 

Two Apparitions to Mr. William Lilly, of Kelso, Roxburgh- 
shire, in 1749 208 

Apparitions of Mr. Thomkins to the Rev. Mr. Warren 212 

Narrative of Disturbances at Epworth, Lincoln, drawn up by 
the Rev. John Wesley, with complete Documents, from 

his Life 2/2 

Apparition of Ficinus to Michael Mercato 230 

Apparitions seen at Portnedown Bridge, after the Irish Mas- 
sacre 231 

Apparition of Major Blomberg, to the Governor of Dominica. . 234 
The Westminster Abbey Vault, as related by Sinclair 236 



XX CONTENTS. 

Page. 

The Disobedient Son reproved . . . . » 240 

The Yatton Demoniac, with complete Documents * •• 242 

Ominous Swords 250 

Apparition to Lady Fanshaw 251 

Apparition to Philip Melancthon, at the Second Diet of Spires, 

in 1529 252 

Original Account of the Apparition of Mrs. Bargrave to Mrs. 

Veal, at Canterbury 254 

Remarkable Case of Mr. Booty and the Ship's Crew 264 

Extraordinary Dream of the Rev. Joseph Wilkins 266 

Apparition of Desfontaines to Mr. Bezeul 268 

Apparition of Sir John to Lady Owen and her servant 270 

Omen to Charles II, in 1680 274 

Conversion of Judge Brograve ; from Aubrey 274 

Singular Death of Commissioner Fostree, in 1767 274 

Appaiition to Lord Lyttleton, at Pitt Place, Epsom 275 

Apparition of Mr. Barlow's Huntsman, in 18 i 1 278 

Evidence of an Apparition, in the High Court of Justiciary, in 

Edinburgh 279 

Circumstantial Anecdotes of the Massacre of St. Bartholomew 288 

^Prognosticated Death of Henry III. of France 282 

Prediction of Alexander Peden 283 

Remarkable Dream of Miss Hutton ib. 

Conversion of Henry de Joyeuse '. 284 

Apparition to the celebrated Ninon de PEnclos 285 

Apparition to Miss Hepburne, of Garleton, NB e -. 280 

Apparition seen by Mr. Weston, of Old Swinford, Worcester . . 290 

^JSecond Sight, from Martin, Dr. Johnson, and others 281 

A Duel between two Sons prevented by the Apparition of 

their Father 297 

Narration of the Sampford Ghost, in 1810, with Affidavits and 

other Documents, <fec 301 



SIGNS BEFORE DEATH, 



AUTHENTICATED APPARITIONS. 



So sumptuous yet so perishing withal ! 

# # # * * 

A thousand mourners deck the pomp of death, 

To day the breathing 1 marble glows above 

To decorate its memory, and tongues 

Are busy of its life; to-morrow worms 

Iu silence and in darkness seize their prey. 

Shelley. 



THE END OF ALL THINGS. 

( See Frontispiece.) 

Englishmen will always revere the kindred genioi of 
their celebrated countryman, William Hogarth. The 
efforts of his pencil are admirably suited to their taste, 
because they simultaneously appeal to the eye and the 



22 hogarth's tail-piece. 

understanding, in bold and vigorous language, the effect 
of which is universally felt and acknowledged. To 
this school belongs his " Tail Piece/' which is in every 
point, one of the happiest conceptions of his ingenious 
mind ; and of which the frontispiece is a fae-simile. 

But the circumstances of the design and completion of 
this picture are the most remarkable. 

The first idea is said to have been started in company, 
while the convivial glass was circulating round the artist's 
own table. " My next undertaking" said Hogarth, 
"shall be the end of all things. 91 — " If that is the case," 
replied one of his friends, " your business will be 
finished, for there will be an end of the painter"— 
" There will so," answered Hogarth, sighing heavily, 
" and the sooner my work is done the better." Accord- 
ingly he began the next day. and continued his design 
w^ith a diligence which seemed to indicate that he should 
not live till he had completed it. He however finished 
it, but never again took the palette in hand, for about a 
month after this, on the 25th of October, 1764, he 
died suddenly of an aneurism in his chest, in the sixty- 
seventh or sixty-eighth year of his age, and was interred 
at Chiswick. 

The design of the Tail-Piece is two-fold,^/\tf,to collect such 
objects as denoted the end of time, and secondly, to ridicule the 
gross absurdities which are to be seen in the serious works of 
some of the ancient masters, who have" blended the grave 
with the sublime, and the trifling with subjects of importance. 
Alluding to Swift's humorous art rf sinking poetry, Hogarth 



hogarth's tail-piece. 23 

called it the Bathos, or mariner of sinking in sublime paintings, 
and inscribed the plate to the dealers in dark pictures. 

As there is no great connection among the variety of 
objects denoted in this print, except a conformity with 
the end, we shall mention the various articles as they present 
themselves to our view. On the left is a ruinous tower, hav- 
ing a decayed time-piece or dial-plate in front; contiguous 
to that is a tomb-stone decorated with a death's head, and 
leaning on the remains of a column, we perceive Time in the 
utmost agony breathing out his last ; his usual accompani- 
ments, the scythe, tube, and hour-glass are broken; his sinews 
are unstrung, and his course is run. In one hand he holds a 
parchment scroll containing his will, in which he has. be- 
queathed every atom of this world to chaos, whom he has 
appointed sole executor. This testament is duly executed by 
the three sister fates, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. 

Beneath the will of time, lies a shoemaker's last, around 
which is entwined the cobbler's end. On the left of these, are 
an empty ragged purse, a commission of bankruptcy with the 
seal annexed, supposed to be issued against poor dame Nature, 
and a play book opened at the last page. 

In the centre, appear a broken bow, a broken crown, and 
a worn out scrubbing-brush. On the other side of the plate 
is opposed a withered tree, beneath which stands an un- 
thatched cottage, together with a falling sign of the world's 
end, described by a terrestrial globe bursting out into flames. 
At the foot is the artist's own print of the times, set on fire 
by an inch of candle. 

Near this, a cracked bell is contrasted by a broken bottle, 
a worn out broom, the stock of a musket, a rope's end, a 
whip without its lash, a mutilated capital of the Ionic order, 
and a painter's broken palette. At some distance a man h 
gibbeted in chains, and a ship is seen foundering at sea. To 



Z\ HOGARTH'S TAIL-PIECE. 

complete the whole, in the firmament above, the moon is 
darkened by the death of Phoebus (the sun) who (with his 
lifeless coursers) lies extended on a cloud, while his chariot 
wheels are broken, and consequently the source of light k 
extinguished : — 

The stars shall fade away, the sun himself 
Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years. 

Addison*. 

A more intellectual print was perhaps never executed, 
and is a just satire on the unmeaning frippery of modera 
art. It speaks volumes, and will always be a treasure in 
the chamber of the man of reflection, to keep in remem- 
brance the road to eternity, and with its beacons to fore- 
warn him of the instability of all earthly grandeur : 

These our actors 

As I foretold you, were all spirit, and 

Are melted into air, into thin air : 

And like the baseless fabric of this vision, 

The cloud~capp ? d towVs, the gorgeous palaces, 

The solemn temples, the great globe itself, 

Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve ; 

And like the unsubstantial pageant failed, 

Leave not a track behind : We are such stuff 

As dreams are made of, and our little life 

Is rounded with a sleep. £ haksfeare. 



25 

DISCOVERY OF A MURDER AT CHESTER. 

About the year 1632, near Chcster-in-the-street, 
e lived one Walker, a yeoman of good estate, and 
a widower, with a handsome young house-keeper, who 
was, by the neighbours, suspected to be with child. 
Towards the dusk of an evening, in autumn, she was 
sent away with one Mark Sharpe, a collier. She was 
not heard of for a long time, but little or no further notice 
was taken. In the following winter, one James Gra- 
ham, or Grime, a miller, residing about two miles 
from the place where Walker lived, was one night 
alone very late in the mill, grinding corn. About twelve 
at night, he came down stairs, having finished putting 
corn in the hopper, and the mill doors being shut, when 
there stood before him a woman in the midst of the floor, 
with her hair about her head hanging down, and stained 
with blood, with five large wounds on her head. He 
asked her who she was, and what she wanted ? To 

which she said, I am the spirit of ■, who 

lived with Walker ; and having been seduced by him, 
he promised to send me to a private place, where I 
should be well attended to, until I was brought to bed 
and well again, and then I should return and keep 
his house. 

Accordingly, continued the Apparition, I was one 
night late sent away with oue Mark Sharpe, who upon 
a moor (naming a place which the miller knew) slew me 
with a pick (such as men use in digging coals), and 
gave me these five wounds, and afterwards threw my 
body into a coal-pit hard by, and hid the pick under a 
bank : and his shoes and stockings being bloody, he 
endeavoured to wash them, but seeing the blood would 
not wash out, he hid them there. The Apparition further 
told the Miller that he must be the man to reveal it, or 

c 



26 THE CHESTER MURDER. 

else she must still appear and haunt him. The Miller 
returned home very sad and heavy, but spoke not one 
word of what he had seen. He, however, avoided stay- 
ing in the mill at night without company, thinking 
thereby to escape this frightful Apparition. 

Notwithstanding this precaution, one night, when it 
began to grow dark, the Apparition met him again, and 
threatened, that if he did not reveal the murder, she would 
continually pursue and haunt him. He still concealed 
it till St. Thomas's eve, before TChristmas, when being 1 
after sun-set, walking in his garden, she appeared again, 
and then so threatened and terrified him, that he faith- 
fully promised to reveal it next morning. 

In the morning he went to a magistrate, and commu- 
nicated the whole matter, with all the circumstances ; 
and diligent search being made, the body was found in 
a coal-pit, with five wounds in the head, and the pick> 
and shoes, and stockings yet bloody, in every circum- 
stance as the Apparition had described to the Miller. 
Walker and Mark Sharpe were both apprehended, but 
would confess nothing. At the following Durham 
assizes they were arraigned before Judge Davenport, 
found guilty, condemned, and executed. During the 
trial one Mr. Fairbair gave it in evidence upon oath, 
that he saw the likeness of a child stand upon Walker's 
shoulders ! 

THE APPARITION AND THE HIGHWAYMAN, 

In Guildford Gaol. 
In the year 1780, one Mr. Bower, an aged man, 
living at Guildford, in Surrey, was, upon the highway, 
not far from that town, found barbarously murdered, hav- 
ing one great cut across the throat, and another down his 
breast. Two men were taken up on suspicion, and im- 
prisoned in Guildford gaol, with another, who had before 



APPARITION IX GUILDFORD GAOL. 27 

been committed for robbery. During the night, this 
third man was awakened about twelve o'clock, and 
greatly terrified by an old man, who had a wide gash 
across his throat, almost from ear to ear, and a wound 
down his breast. He also came in stooping, and hold- 
ing his hand on his back. The thief called to his new 
companions, who grumbled at him, but made no 
answer. 

In the morning he retained so lively an impression 
of what he had seen, that he spoke to them to the same 
effect again, when they told him it was nothing but his 
phantasy. But he was so fully persuaded of the re- 
ality of this apparition, that he told others of it, and it 
reached the ears of a magistrate of Surrey, who was 
cousin to the murdered gentleman. 

He immediately sent for the prisoner, and asked him, 
la the first place, whether he was born or had lived 
near Guildford? To which he answered no. Se- 
condly, he enquired if he knew any of the inhabitants 
of that town, or of the neighbourhood ? He replied 
that he was an entire stranger to all that part of the 
country. He then enquired if he had ever heard of one 
Mr. Bower ? He said no. After this he asked for 
what cause the other two men were imprisoned; 
to which he answered he knew not, but supposed for 
some robbery. 

After these preliminary interrogatories, he desired 
him to tell him what he had seen in the night, which 
he immediately did. He described the old gentleman 
by his picked beard, and that he was rough on his 
cheeks, and that the hairs on his face were blaqk and 
white ; when the magistrate said that he himself could 
not have given a more exact description of Mr. Bower. 

The magistrate concealed this story from the jury at 
c 2 



28 THE WICKED STEP-MOTHER. 

the assizes, knowing that this would not be evidence 
according to law. However the friends of the murdered' 
gentleman had been very inquisitive, and discovered 
several suspicious circumstances ; one of w T hich was, 
that these two men had washed their clothes, but some 
stains of blood still remained; and another, that one of 
them had denied ever having heard that Mr. Bower was: 
dead, when he had in another place confessed it two- 
hours before. Upon this, and similar evidence, the 
men were condemned and executed, but they both 
denied all knowledge of the murder to the last moment 
Some time after a tinker was hanged, who, at his death 
said, that the murder of Mr. Bovver at Guildford, was his 
greatest trouble ; for he had a hand in it. He confessed 
he struck him a blow on the back which brought him- 
from his horse, and when he was clown, the other two 
men who had been arraigned and executed, cut his 
throat, and rifled him.-— Dr. H. More. 

THE WICKED STEP- MOTHER. 

A gentleman of good estate married a lady of fortune, 
by whom he had one son and one daughter. After a' 
few years the lady died. He then married a second 
wife with less fortune than the other, who maltreated 
the children he had by his first wife. 

The first misunderstanding between the parties, was 
owing to the eldest son's wish to go abroad, which the 
mother-in -law would gladly have acquiesced in; had it not 
been for the expense of his father's supportinghim abroad, 
which she feared might prove very heavy. The young gen- 
tlemannotobtainingleave, applied to his own mothers bro- 
ther, who countenancing him in his design, he set out on hk 
intended journey, contrary to the wish of his father. 

The father constantly received intelligence from him 



4 
THE WICKED STEP-MOTHER. 29 

for some time, and had been prevailed on to make him 
a reasonable allowance ; but owing to the influence of 
his step- mother, this remittance was suddenly discon- 
tinued, after which the correspondence ceased for four 
years. 

During this long silence, the mother-in-law used her 
influence in several instances : she first intimated to his 
father that he must be dead ; and, consequently, that 
-his estate should be settled upon her eldest son, she 
having several children. His father opposed this pro- 
position very firmly, but the wife became importunate ; 
and she argued upon two points against the son. 

First ; If he were dead, then there could be no room to 
object to her son's being heir at; law. 

Secondly ; If he were not dead, his neglect of his 
father was inexcusable, and he ought to resent it, and 
settle the estate as though he were dead; that nothing 
could be more disobedient, and that he who thus abused 
his father, should be considered as dead in his filial 
relation, and be treated accordingly. 

His father, however, withstood the importunities of 
the mother for a long time. Her restless solicitations at 
last produced this provisional arrangement ; that if he 
did not hear from his son within four years, he would 
consent to resettling the estate. She was not satisfied 
with this conditional agreement. He grew angry at her 
discontent, still she teazed him so continually that at 
last she reduced the time to one year ; but before she 
brought him to this agreement, she told him one day in 
a passion, that she hoped his spirit would appear to 
him, and tell him that he was dead, and that he ought 
to do justice to his other children. When he was 
about to consent to shorten the time to one year, he 
told her that he hoped his son's spirit, though he were 



M THE WICKED STEP-MOTHER* 

not dead, would appear to her, and tell her he was alive, 
before the time expired, 

It happened one evening soon afterwards that they had 
a violent quarrel upon this subject, when suddenly a band 
appeared at the casement, endeavouring to open it. 
The gentleman did not see it, but his wife did, and she 
presently started up, as if frightened ; and, forgetting 
the quarrel exclaimed, " Lord bless me ! there are 
thieves in the gardea." Her husband ran immediately 
to the door of the room, and opening it, looked out. 

There is nobody in the garden, said he ; and then 
shut the door again, and re-seated himself. 

I am sure, said she, I saw a man there. 

It must be the devil then, replied he ; for I am sure 
there is nobody in the garden. 

I'll swear, said she, I saw a man put his hand up to 
open the casement; but finding it fast, and I suppose, 
seeing us in the room, he walked off. 

It is impossible he could be gone, said he; did not I 
run to the door immediately ? and you know the garden 
walls on both sides would prevent escape. 

Pr'ythee, said she angrily, I am neither drunk nor 
in a dream ; I know a man when I see hirn, and it is 
not yet dark, and the sun is not quite down. 

You are only frightened with shadows, said he, and 
ill-natured folks generally are so when haunted with 
an evil conscience ; may be 'twas the devil. 

No, I am not so soon frightened, replied she ; if 'twas 
the devil, 'twas the ghost of your son, who perhaps may 
be come to tell you he was gone to the devil, and you 
might give your estate to your eldest illegitimate, since 
you wont settle it on the lawful heir. 

If it was my son, said he, he is come to tell us he 
is alive, I warrant you ; and to ask how you can 



THE WICKED STEP-MOTHER, 31 

be so wicked as to desire me to disinherit him, 
and with these words "Alexander," cried he aloud, 
repeating it twice, and starting up out of his chair, '• ii' 
you are alive, show yourself, and don't let me be 
vexed thus daily with the story of your being dead." 

At those words the casement flew open, and his son 
Alexander looked in, and staring directly upon the 
mother with an angry countenance, cried out here ; 
and then vanished! The woman, who was so spirited 
before, now shrieked out, so as to alarm the whole 
house ; the maid ran into the parlour, to see what was 
the matter ; but her mistress had fainted away in her 
chair. Her husband ran imraediatety from the parlour 
into the garden, and from thence to two other doors 
which opened out of his garden, one into the stable- 
yard, and another into the field beyond the garden, but 
found them all fast shut and barred. On returning into 
the garden, he found his gardener and a boy drawing a 
stone-roller : he asked them if any other person had 
been in the garden, but they both solemnly affirmed 
that none had been there. 

Upon this he returned to the room, seated himself, 
and remained silent for some time. After a while his 
wife recovered herself, when the first words she said 
were, Lord bless me ! what was it ? Nay, said her 
husband, 'twas Alexander. She now fell into a fit? 
violently screaming and shrieking out; and she con- 
tinued very ill for several days afterwards from the 
effect of the fright. 

This put an end for some considerable time to her 
solicitations about disinheriting her son-in-law. But 
time wore this offalso by degrees, and she began to revive 
the old cause again, though not at firstso eagerly as 
Jaefore. This gave rise to serious disputes, in which 



32 THE WICKED STEP-MOTHER. 

the husband incautiously alluded to the recent appari-* 
tion, and threatened to recall him. The enraged wife ? . 
at length, indicted him as a wizard, and accused him of 
horrible traffickings in witchcraft and sorcery* At 
length, for what will not the discontent of woman effect, 
she so far prevailed on him, that he offered to refer the dis- 
pute to indifferent persons, or friends on both sides ; and 
they met several times, but could bring the matter to r>o 
conclusion. His friends said, that he called for his son, and 
some one opened the casement and cried Here ; asserting 1 
that there was not the least evidence of witchcraft in 
that, and insisted that she could make nothing of it. 
She offered to swear, that he had threatened her before 
with his son's ghost ; that now he had visibly raised a 
spectre, for that upon calling his son, who was known to 
be dead, the spirit immediately appeared. After much 
altercation they were reconciled again, and accordingly he 
gave her the writing ; but when he delivered it to her, in 
the presence of her two arbitrators, he thus addressed her : 

" Look you, you have worried me into this agreement 
by your fiery temper, and I have signed it against 
justice, conscience, and reason ; but depend upon it I 
shall never perform it." 

One of the arbitrators said, — Why, Sir, this is all to 
no purpose ; for if you resolve not to perform it, where 
is the utility of the writing? Why do you promise 
what you do not intend to perform ? This will but kindle 
anew flame to begin with, when the fixed time expires. 
Why, said he, I am satisfied in my mind, that my son 
is alive. Come, said his wife, speaking to the gentle 
man who had argued with her husband, let him sign 
the agreement, and let me alone to make him perform 
the conditions. Well, said the husband, you shall have 
the writing, and you shall he let alone, but I am safotie^ 



THE WICKED STEP-MOTHER. 33 

you will never ask me to perform it. At the end of 
four months, she challenged the performance ; accord- 
ingly a day was appointed, and her two friends, the 
arbitrators, were invited to dinner upon this occasion, 
believing that her husband would have executed the 
deeds. Accordingly the writings were brought forth, 
engrossed and read over ; and the husband being won 
over, executed the deeds and thus disinherited his son. 
When they had settled the particulars, and the new 
deeds were read over, she took up the old writings to 
cancel them ; and, on her tearing off the seal, they 
suddenly heard a rushing noise in the parlour where 
they sat, as if somebody had come in at the door of the 
room which opened from the hall, and went through the 
room towards the garden door, which was shut. 

They were all much surprised at it, for the noise was 
very distinct ; but they saw nothing. The woman 
turned pale, and was in a terrible fright; however, as 
nothing was seen, she soon recovered, and began to 
ruffle her husband again. What, said she, have you 
laid your plot to bring up more devils again ? The 
man sat composed though he was not less surprised. 
One of the gentlemen said to him, What is the meaning 
of all this ? I protest, Sir, says he, I know no more of 
it, than you do. What can it be then ? said the other 
gentleman. I cannot conceive, said he, for I am utterly 
unacquainted with such things. Have you heard 
nothing from your son ? asked the gentleman. Not 
one word, said the father, these five years. Have you 
not written to him, said the gentleman, about this 
transaction ? Not a word, replied he, for I know not 
where to address a letter to him. Sir, said the gentle- 
man, I have heard much of apparitions, but I never saw 

. in my life, nor did I ever believe there was any 
V 3 



34 THE WICKED STEP-MOTHEff. 

reality in them ; and indeed I have seen nothing: but 
the passing of some body, or spirit, across the room just 
now, was plain ; I heard it distinctly. Nay, said the 
other arbitrator, I felt the wind of it as it passed by me. 
Pray, added he, turning to the husband, did you see 
any thing yourself? No, replied he. Pray, Sir, said the 
first arbitrator, have you seen any thing at any other 
time, or heard any voices or noises, or had any dreams 
about this matter ? Indeed, said he, I have several 
times dreamt my son was alive, and that I had spoken 
with him ; and once I had asked him why he was so 
undutiful, and slighted me, so as not to let me hear 
from him in so many years, seeing he knew that I had 
it in my power to disinherit him. Well, Sir, and what 
answer did he give ? I never dreamt so far on as to have 
liis answer ; but always awoke me. And what do you 
think of it yourself, said the arbitrator, do you think he 
is dead ? No, indeed, said the father, 1 believe he is 
alive, and that I am about to commit myself. Truly, 
said the second arbitrator, it begins to shock me ; I 
don't care to meddle any more with it. The wife hav- 
ing somewhat recovered her spirits, and being specially 
encouraged because she saw nothing, now started up ; 
What's all this discourse to the purpose, said she, is it 
not already agreed upon ? what do we come here for ? 
Nay, said the first arbitrator, I think we meet now not 
to enquire into why it is done ; but to execute things 
according to agreement, and what are we frightened at ? 
I am not frightened, said the wife ; come, said she to 
her husband, haughtily, sign the deed, Til cancel the 
©Id writings, if forty devils were in the room ; upon 
this she took up one of the deeds, and was about to tear 
off the seal. 

That moment the same casement flew open again 



TH3 WICKED STEP-MOTHER. 35 

I the shadow of a body was seen, as standing in the 
garden, and the head reaching up to the window, the 
face luoking into the room, and staring directly at the 
woman with a stern countenance: Hold, said the spectre, 
as if speaking to the woman, and immediately shut the 
casement, and disappeared. 

It is impossible to describe the consternation which 
this second apparition created in the whole company ; 
the wife screamed out, fell into fits, and let the writing 
fall out of her hands : the two arbitrators were exceed- 
ingly terrified, and one of them took up the award 
signed by them, and in which they empowered the 
husband to execute the deed, to dispose of the estate 
from the son. 

I dare say, said he, be the spirit a good spirit or a bad 
one, it will not be against cancelling this ; accordingly 
he tore his name out of the award, as did the other, and 
both of them rose from their seats, and said they would 
have no more to do in the affair. This. put an end to 
the whole business. 

In about four or five months more after the second 
apparition, the son arrived from the East Indies, whither 
he had sailed four years before, in a Portuguese ship from 
Lisbon. Upon being particularly enquired of about 
these things, and especially whether he had any know- 
ledge of them, or had seen any apparition, or other ex- 
traordinary intimation concerning what was plotting 
iiist him here at home ; he constantly affirmed that 
he had not, except that he once dreamt his father had 
written him a very angry letter, threatening him, that if 
he did not come home, he would disinherit him, and cut 
him off without a shilling. This he added, was one of 
the principal reasons of his desire to return to England by 
the first opportunity. — Moreton's History of Apparitions. 



36 

THE TWO BROTHERS. 

Mr. R N , and Mr. J N S W* 

brothers, whose education had been equally liberal, as 
they had both been bred at the university of Oxford, 
imbibed in that excellent institution principles diame- 
trically opposite. — The former was for venturing every 
thing, and running all hazards, in order to push his for- 
tune ; whilst the maxim of the latter, was to regulate 
his conduct by the strictest prudence and economy, and 
to leave nothing to chance. 

When their studies were finished, they both returned 
to their father at Bristol, who was an eminent mer- 
chant of that city. For some time after their return, 
their minds were entirely taken up with deliberating 
what profession they should attach themselves to, and 
what plan of life they should pursue for the remainder 
of their days. 

In the midst of these golden dreams, tire father, by a 
sudden and unexpected turn of fortune, failed, and took 
so to heart the loss of his wealth, that he died in a few 
days, and left his two sons in a state of indigence* 
The eldest brother declared, that he was resolved rather 
to venture death than to stay at Bristol, where he had 
formerly lived in affluence, and be an object of scorn or 
pity to those by whom he had once been beheld with 
envy. 

The two brothers accordingly took leave of each 
other, the former bent upon buffeting fortune, and the 
latter resolving to avail himself of the few resources 
which he might find in the place of his nativity. 

He accordingly went to live with a merchant, an ac- 
quaintance of his father s, by whom he was employed 

as clerk, w T hilst Mr. R N— — went to London. 

Here the money of the latter was soon exhausted, and h« 



THE TWO BROTHERS. 3/ 

became reduced to distress, so that having been four day? 
without food, he one evening wandered about St. James's* 
Park in despair, and as soon a3 it was dark, sat down 
upon one of the benches, and taking a knife out of his 
pocket, was upon the point of piercing his breast, when 
on a sudden looking up, he saw a figure of great beauty, 
It appeared to him to be a handsome youth, whose 
eyes shone with a starry brightness, whilst a lambient 
flame or glsry played about his hair. 

R N , who had formed the desperate reso- 

lution of suicide, on lifting up his eyes to this angelic 
appearance, heard these words distinctly pronounced : 
{i Hold, rash mortal !" He immediately desisted, and 
the phantom advancing forward, and beckoning to him, 
he rose up and followed it : it suddenly vanished, and 
he walked on with exultation, which he could not account 
for; till at last he met a soldier, who pressed him to 
^nter a public-house, which was the rendezvous of a 
recruiting party. 

Here the obstreperous mirth but little suited the 

serious turn of Mr. R N— - — ; but as he was quite 

destitute, he readily accepted their proposal of en- 
listing ; and the regiment which he joined bein^ 
soon after commanded abroad, he signalized himself at 
the siege of Quebec, and upon other occasions ; by 
which means he rose to a lieutenancy. Upon his 
return to England, he found himself reduced to half pay, 
which proved insufficient to support his extravagant 
round of pleasure. 

The greatest source of his expences was, his attach- 
ment to a fine woman. With her he visited all the 
places of public amusement; the Theatres, the Opera, 
Vauxhall, Ranelagh, Mary-le-bone, &c. She had 



38 THE TWO BROTHERS. 

likewise as great a passion for dress; and her wardrobe 
excelled that of a duchess. 

But her attractions served only to render hex 
more dangerous : in truth, she possessed the most fasci- 
nating loveliness, which was greatly heightened by her 
conversational charms in whatever circle she moved. 
In the meantime her gay admirer, by gentlemanly ap- 
pearance and plausible address, easily obtained credit to 
a large amount ; but, at length, the clamours of his cre- 
ditors became so importunate, that he was in incon- 
ceivable perplexity, and the thought of having imposed 
upon persons, who had so generously obliged him, drove 
him almost into a phrenzy. His evil genius now sug- 
gested to him a course almost equally desperate as that 
of suicide, which he had already attempted, namely, that 
of going upon the highway. 

He accordingly provided himself with pistols, and one 
evening w r entto Blackheath. He rode to and fro in the 
utmost perturbation of mind ; his terror still increasing 
as the night approached, till at last he beheld the same 
angelic appearance that he had seen before, which 
seemed to point to the road to London. Even in the 
darkness of the night the whole figure appeared very 
manifest, and no sooner had Mr. R— N— be- 
held it, but all his agitation and disorder subsided, 
and, with the utmost composure of mind, he returned to 
London, having taken the precaution of throwing away 
his pistols, the instruments of destruction with which his 
evil genius had armed him, lest they might give rise to 
any suspicion of the purpose which he had in leaving 
town. 

Upon his return to his lodgings, he broke up his con- 
nexion with the pernicious woman who had given him 



THE TWO BROTHERS. 39 

ittoh horrid advice, as his love for her was entirely con- 
verted into hatred, when he considered that her vile 
suggestions might have brought him to infamy and dis- 
grace. 

The grand source of his inquietude still remained. 
He was apprehensive every moment of being arrested, 
and thrown into jail by his creditors. He now formed 
a resolution to go over to Ireland, thinking he could 
there be secure from his creditors. Whilst his mind 
was occupied with these thoughts he was arrested, 
and there being several actions against him at the same 
time, he was obliged to get himself removed to the Fleet 
by Habeas Corpus. A man of his high tone of mind 
could but ill brook confinement. The days hung 
heavily on his hands, and he was obliged to have re- 
course to wine to dispel the gloom by which his mind 

was overcast. Whilst Mr. R N — —led this life 

of care and inquietude, he one night had a dream, 
which revived his drooping spirit. He dreamed that 
the same spirit which had appeared to him twice before 
came in the night, and opened the gates of his prison ; 
and the ideas which passed in his imagination took so 
strong a possession of his mind, that when he awoke in 
the morning, he could not for some time be persuaded 
that he was still in prison. The delusion soon vanished, 
but he still retained his alacrity of mind. This seem- 
ingly groundless joy was soon followed by a real one. 

About noon he heard himself enquired for, and imme- 
diately knew the voice to be that of his brother. He 
rushed into his arms, and embraced him with the ut- 
most transport. When their first emotions of joy were 

somewhat subsided, Mr. J N gave his brother 

to understand that he had accumulated, a fortune by 
East-India trade; and enquiring into the state of his 



40 APPARtflON AT StfAR CROSS, 

affairs, and the sum for which he was in confinemem, 
he paid the debt and set him at liberty that evening. 

APPARITION AT STAR CROSS, DEVONSHIRE, JULY 23, 1823. 

The following very interesting narrative was com- 
municated to the New Monthly Magazine. The cor- 
respondent prefaces the relation of the circumstances 
with the following observations : — 

Tt may not be unimportant to remark, that so far 
from my being subject to the blue devils and vapours, 
with which hypochondriacs and invalids are haunted, I 
possess that happy physical organization, which ensures 
almost uninterrupted health of body and mind, and 
which, in the elasticity and buoyancy of my spirit, 
renders the sensation of mere existence an enjoyment. 
Though I reside in the country, winter has for me no 
gloom ; nature has prepared herself for its rigours ; they 
are customary ; and every 4hing seems to harmonize 
with their infliction : but for the same reason that the 
solitude of a town is desolating and oppressive, while 
the loneliness of the country is soothing and grateful, I 
do feel the sadness of perpetual fogs and rains in July, 
although they excite no melancholy feeling at the season 
of their natural occurrence. To see one's favourite 
flowers laying down their heads to die ; one's plantation 
strewed with leaves not shaken off in the fulness of age, 
but beaten to earth in the bloom of youth : here a noble 
tree laid prostrate ; and there a valuable held of corn 
lodged in the swampy soil (which were familiar objects 
in July last), is sufficient to excite melancholy associa- 
tions in the most cheerful temperament. Confessing 
that mine was not altogether proof against their influence, 
and leaving to the caviller and the sceptic the full be- 
netit of this admission, I proceed to a simple statement 



DEVONSHIRE. 41 

of the facts, which has elicited these preliminary obser- 
vations. 

Actuated by the disheartening dulness of the scene 
to which I have alluded, I had written to my friend, 
Mr. George Staples, of Exeter, requesting him to walk 
over some day and dine with me, as I well knew his 
presence was an instant antidote to mental depression. 
On the day following the transmission of this letter, as 
I was sitting in an alcove to indulge my afternoon medi- 
tation, I found myself disturbed by what I imagined 
to be the ticking of my repeater ; but, recollecting that I 
had left it in the house, I discovered the noise proceeded 
from that little insect of inauspicious augury, the death- 
watch. Despising the puerile superstitions connected 
with this pulsation, I gave it no farther notice, and pro- 
ceeded towards the house, when, as I passed an um- 
brageous plantation, I was startled by a loud wailing 
shriek, and presently a screech-owl flew out immediately 
before me. It was the first time one of those ill-omened 
birds had ever crossed my path ; I combined it with the 
memenio-mori I had just heard, although I blushed at 
my own weakness in thinking them worthy of an asso- 
ciation ; and, as [ walked forward, I encountered my 
servant, who put a letter into my hand, which I observed 
to be sealed with black wax. It was from the clerk of 
my poor friend, informing me that he had been that 
morning struck by an apoplectic fit, which had occa- 
sioned his almost instantaneous death ! The reader 
may spare the sneer that is flickering upon his features : 
I draw no inference whatever from the omens that pre- 
ceded this intelligence: I am willing to consider them 
as curious coincidences, totally unconnected with the 
startling apparition which shortly afterwards assailed me. 

There was something so awful in the manner of my 



42 APPARITION AT STAR CROSS, 

friend's death, the hilarity I had anticipated from his 
presence formed so appalling a contrast with his actual 
condition, that my mind naturally sunk into a mood of 
deep sadness and solemnity* Reaching the house in 
this frame of thought, I closed the library window - 
shutters as I passed, and entering the room by a glass 
door, seated myself in a chair that fronted the garden. 
Scarcely a minute had elapsed, when I was thrilled by 
the strange wailful howl of my favourite spaniel, who 
had followed me into the apartment, and came trembling 
and crouching to my feet, occasionally turning his eyes 
to the back of the chamber, and. again instantly revert- 
ing them with every demonstration of terror and agony. 
Mine instinctively took the same direction, when, 
notwithstanding the dimness of the light, I plainly and 
indisputably recognized the apparition of my friend sit- 
ting motionless in the great arm-chair ! ! It is easy to 
be courageous in theory, not difficult to be bold in 
practice, when the mind has time to collect its energies ; 
but taken as I was by surprise, I confess, that astonish- 
ment and terror so far mastered all my faculties, that/ 
without daring to cast a second glance towards the vision, 
I walked rapidly back into the garden, followed by the 
dog, who still testified the same agitation and alarm. 

Here I had leisure to recover from my first perturba- 
tion ; and as my thoughts rallied, I endeavoured to per- 
suade myself that I had been deluded by some conju- 
ration of the mind, or some spectral deception of the 
visual organ. But in either case, how account for the 
terror of the dog ? He could neither be influenced by 
superstition, nor could his unerring sight betray him 
into groundless alarm ; yet it was incontestable that we 
had both been appalled by the same object. Soon re- 
covering my natural fortitude of spirit* I resolved, what- 



DEVONSHIRE. 43 

ever might be the consequences, to return and address 
the apparition. I even began to fear it might have 
vanished. I returned, therefore, with some rapidity 
towards the library ; and although the dog stood im- 
moveable still at some distance, in spite of my solicita- 
tions, and kept earnestly gazing upon me, as if in appre- 
hension of an approaching catastrophe, I proceeded 
onward, and turning back the shutters which I had 
closed, determined not to be imposed upon by any du- 
biousness of the light. Thus fortified against deception, 
T re-entered the room with a firm step, and there in the 
full glare of day did I again clearly and vividly behold 
the identical apparition, sitting in the same posture as 
before, and having his eyes closed ! ! 

Mjr heart somewhat failed me under this sensible 
confirmation of the vision, but, summoning all my cou- 
rage, I walked up to the chair, exclaiming with a des- 
perate energy — " In the name of heaven and of all its 
angels, what dost thou seek here ?" — when the figure, 
slowly rising up, opening its eyes, and stretching out 
its arms, replied — " A leg of mutton and caper sauce, 
with a bottle of prime old port, for such is the dinner 
you promised me." " Good God!" I ejaculated^ 
'* what can this mean ? Are you not really dead ?" 
" No more than you are/' replied the figure. " Some 
open-mouthed fool told my clerk that I was, and he 
instantly wrote to tell you of it ; but it was my name- 
sake, George Staples, of Castle-street, not me, nor even 
one of my relations, so let us have dinner as soon as you 
please, for I am as hungry as a bnibtor/ 1 

The promised dinner being soon upon the table, my 
friend informed me, in the intervals of his ever-ready 
laughter, that as soon as he had undeceived his clerk, he 
walked over to Starr Cross to do me the same favour; 



44 DR. FARRER AND HIS DAUGHTER. 

that he had fallen asleep in the arm-chair while waiting 
my return from the grounds ; and as to the dog, he re- 
minded me that he had severely punished him at his last 
visit for killing a chicken, which explained his terror, 
and his crouching to me for protection, when he recog- 
nized his chastiser. 

In the preceding narrative much remains unexplained 
and unaccounted for, notwithstanding the principal cir- 
cumstances are developed. The ticking heard in the 
alcove and the wailing of the owl remain in mystery. 

DR. FARRAR AND HIS DAUGHTER. 

In 1678, Dr. Farrar, physician to Charles the Second, 
made a compact with his daughter, Mrs. Pearson, that 
the first of them that died, if happy, should appear, after 
death, to the survivor. 

Some time after, the daughter, who lived at Gil- 
lingham- Lodge, two miles from Salisbury, fell in labour, 
and by a mistake in a noxious draught being given in- 
stead of another prepared for her, she suddenly died. 

Her father lived in London, and the night on which 
she died, she opened his curtains and gaaed upon him. 
He had before heard nothing of her illness ; but upon 
this apparition confidently told his maid that his daugh- 
ter was dead, and two days after he received the news. 

Dr. H. More. 

THE DRUMMER OF TED WORTH. 

Every one has heard of the comedy of" The Drummer, 
or the Haunted House*'' celebrated enough in its day ; 
but the popularity of w T hich ceased when the affair was 
no longer a topic of public conversation. The circum- 
stances which gave rise to this performance are detailed 
as follow, by Glanvil, by whose statement it appears 
that the matter turned out to be no farce for Mr. 



DRUMMER OF TEDWORTH. A5 

Mompesson, the proprietor of the house. As there is 
an air of incredibility about the narrative, we give it 
in G] anvil's precise words. 

Mr. John Mompesson of Tedworth, in the county of 
Wilts, being about the middle of March, in the year 
1601, at a neighbouring town, called Ludgarshal, and 
hearing a drum beat there, he inquired of the bailiff of 
the town, at whose house he then was, what it meant. 
The bailiff told him, that thev had for some davs been 
troubled with an idle drummer, who demanded money 
of the constable by virtue of a pretended pass, which he 
thought was counterfeit. Upon this Mr. Mompesson 
sent for the fellow, and asked him by what authority 
he went uj) and down the country in that manner with 
his drum. The drummer answered, he had good autho- 
rity, and produced his pass, with a warrant under the 
hands of Sir William Cawley and Colonel Ayliff, of 
Gretenham. Mr. Mompesson knowing these gentle- 
men's hands, discovered that the pass and warrant were 
counterfeit, and thereupon commanded the vagrant to 
put off his drum, and charged the constable to carry 
him before the next Justice of the Peace, to be farther 
examined and punished. The fellow then confessed 
the cheat, and begged earnestly to have his drum. Mr. 
Mompesson told him, that if he understood from Colonel 
Ayliff, whose drummer he said he was, that he had 
n an honest man, he should have it again, but in the 
mean time he would secure it; so he left the drum with- 
the bailiff, and the drummer in the constable's hands, 
who it seems was prevailed on by the fellow's intreaties 
to let him go. 

About the middle of April following, when Mr. Mom- 
pesson was preparing for a journey to London,, the 
bailiff sent the drum to his house ; on his return 



46 DRUMMER OK TED WORTH. 

from his journey, his wife told him that they had 
been much frightened in the night by thieves, and that 
the house had like to have been broken iuto. And he 
had not been at home above three nights, when the 
same noise was heard that had disturbed his family 
in his absence, It w T as a very great knocking at 
his doors and the outside of his house : hereupon he 
got up, and went about the house with a brace of pistols 
in his hands ; he opened the door where the great 
knocking was, and then he heard the noise at another 
door, he opened that also, and went out round the 
house, but could discover nothing, only he still heard 
a strange noise and hollow sound. When he was got 
back to bed, the noise was a thumping and drumming 
on the top of his house which continued for some time, 
and then by degrees subsided. \ 

After this the noise of thumping and drumming was 
very frequent, usually five nights together, and then it 
would intermit three. It was on the outside of the 
house, which was most principally board. It constantly 
came as they were going to sleep, whether early or late. 
After a month's disturbance without, it came into the 
room where the drum lay, four or five nights in seven, 
within half an hour after they were in bed, continuing 
almost two. The sign of it just before it came was, 
they still heard an hurling in the air over the house, 
and, at its going off the beating of a drum, like that at 
the breaking up of a guard. It continued in this room 
for the space of two months, which time Mr. Mompes- 
son himself lay there to observe it. In the fore part of 
the night, it used to be very troublesome, but after two 
hours all was quiet. 

Mrs. Mompesson being brought to bed, there was 
but little noise the night she was in travail, nor any for 



DRUMMER OF TEDVVORTH. 47 

three weeks after, till she had recovered her strength- But 
after this cessation, it returned in a ruder manner than 
before, and followed and vexed the youngest children, 
beating their bedsteads with such violence, that ail 
present expected they would fall in pieces. In 
laying hands on them, one could feel no blows, but 
might perceive them to shake exceedingly : for an hour 
together it would beat Round-heads and Cuckolds, the 
Tat-too, and several other points of war, as well as any 
drummer. After this, they would hear a scratching 
under the children's beds, as if by something that had iron 
talons. It would lift the children up in their beds, 
follow them from one room to another, and for a while 
haunted none particularly but them. 

There was a cock-loft in the house which had not 
been observed to be troubled, whither they removed the 
children, putting them to bed while it was fair day, 
where they w^ere no sooner laid, but their trouble^ was 
with them as before. 

On the fifth of November, 1661, it kept a mighty 
noise, and a servant observing two boards in the 
children's room seeming to move, he bid it give him one 
of them ; upon which the board came (nothing moving 
it that he saw) within a yard of him ; the man added, 
•* Xay let me have it in my hand;" upon which it 
was shoved quite home to him again, and so up and 
down, to and fro, at least twenty times together, till Mr. 
Mompesson forbad his servant such familiarities. This 
was in the day-time, and seen by a whole room-full of 
people. That morning it left a sulphurous smell behind 
it. which was very offensive. At night the minister, 
one Mr. Cragg. and divers of the neighbours, came to 
the house on a visit. The minister went to prayers 
with them, kneeling at the children's bed-side, where it 



48 DRUMMER OF TEDWORfH. 

was then very troublesome and loud. During prayer- 
time it withdrew into the cock-loft, but returned as soon 
as prayers were done, and then in sight of the company 
the chairs walked about the room cf themselves, the 
children's shoes were hurled over their heads, and every 
loose thing moved about the chamber. At the same time 
a bed-staff was thrown at the minister, which hit him on 
the leg, but so favourably that a lock of wool could not 
fall more softly, and it was observed, that it stopt just 
where it lighted, without rolling or moving from the 
place. 

Mr. Mompesson perceiving that it so much persecuted 
the little children, lodged them out at a neighbour's 
house, taking his eldest daughter, who was about ten 
years of age, into his own chamber, where it had not 
been a month before. As soon as she was in bed, the 
disturbance began there again, continuing three weeks 
drumming, and making other noises, and it was ob- 
served, that it would exactly answer in drumming any 
thing that was beaten or called for. After this, the 
house where the children lodged out, happening to be 
full of strangers, they were taken home, and no distur- 
bance having been known in the parlour, they were 
lodged there, where also their persecutor found them, 
but then only plucked them by the hair and night- 
clothes, without any other disturbance. 

It was noted, that when the noise was loudest, and 
came with the most sudden and surprising violence, no 
dog about the house would move, though the knocking 
was often so boisterous and rude, that it had been heard 
at a considerable distance in the fields, and awakened 
the neighbours in the village, none of which lived very 
near this house. The servants sometimes were lifted 
up in their beds, and let gently down again with- 



DRUMMER OF TEDWORTH. 49 

out hurt, at other times it would lie like a great weight 
upon their feet. 

About the latter end of December, 1661, the drum- 
ming was less frequent, and then they heard a noise like> 
the gingling of money, occasioned as it was thought, by 
something Mr. Mompesson's mother had spoken the 
day before to a neighbour, who talked of fairies leaving 
money, viz. : that she should like it well, if it would 
leave them some to make amends for their trouble. 
The night after the speaking of which, there was a 
greatchinking of money over all the house. 
After this it desisted from the ruder noises, and employ- 
ed itself in trifling apish and less troublesome tricks. On 
Christmas-eve, a little before day, one of the young boys 
arising out of his bed, was hit on a sore place upon his 
heel, with the latch of the door, the pin that it was 
fastened with was so small, that it was a difficult mat- 
ter to pick it out. The night after Christmas-day, it 
threw the old gentlewoman's clothes about the room, 
and hid her bible in the ashes. In such silly tricks it 
frequently indulged. 

After this, it was very troublesome to a servant of 
Mr. Mompesson's, who was a stout fellow, and of sober 
conversation ; this man lay within during the greatest 
disturbance, and for several nights something would 
endeavour to pluck his clothes off the bed, so that he 
was fain to tug hard to keep them on, and sometimes 
they would be plucked from him by main force, and 
his shoes thrown at his head ; and now and then he 
should find himself forcibly held as it were, bound hand 
and foot, but he found that whenever he could make 
use of his sword, and struck with it, the spirit quitted 
its hold. 

A little after these contests, a son of Mr. Thomas 

D 



•50 DRUMMER OF TEDWORTH. 

Bennet, whose workman the drummer had sometimes 
been, came to the house and told Mr. Mompesson some 
words that he had spoken, which it seems were not well 
received ; for as soon as they were in bed, the drum 
was beat up very violently and loudly; the gentleman arose 
and called his man to him, who lay with Mr. Mom* 
pesson's servant, just mentioned, whose name was 
John. As soon as Mr. Bennet's man was gone, John 
heard a ruffling noise in his chamber, and something 
came to his bedside, as if it had been one in silk ; the 
man presently readied after his sword, which he 
found held from him, and it was with difficulty 
and much tugging ihat he got it into his power, 
which as soon as he had done, the spectre left 
him, and it was always observed that it still avoided a 
sword. 

About the beginning of January, 1662, they were 
wont to hear a singing in the chimney before it came 
down ; and one night, about this time, lights were 
seen in the house. One of them came into Mr. Mom- 
pesson's chamber, which seemed blue and glimmering, 
and caused great stiffness in the eyes of those that saw 
it. After the light, something was heard coming up 
the stairs, as if it had been one without shoes. The 
light was seen also four or five times in the children's 
chamber ; and the maids confidently affirm, that the 
doors were at least ten times opened and shut in their 
sight, and when they were open, they heard a noise 
as if half a dozen had entered together, (ifter which 
some were heard to walk about the room, and one 
ruffled as if it had been silk ; Mr. Mompesson himself 
once heard these noises. 

During the time of the knocking, when many were 
present, a gentleman of the company said, " Satan if 



DRUMMER OF TEDWORTH. 51 

drummer set thee to work, give three knocks and 
no more;" which it did very distinctly, and stopt. — 
Then the gentleman knocked to see if it would answer 
him as it was wont, but it did not : for farther trial, he 
bid it for confirmation, if it were the drummer, to give five 
knocks and no more that night, which it did, and left 
the bouse quiet all the night after. This was done in 
the presence of Sir Thomas Chamberlain, of Oxfordshire, 
and divers others. 

On Saturday morning, an hour before day, January 
10, a drum was heard to beat upon the outside of Mr. 
Mompesson's chamber, from whence it went to the 
other end of the house, where some gentlemen strangers 
lay, playing at their door and without, four or five 
■;al tunes, and so went off into the air. 

The next night, a smith in the village lying with 
John, the man, heard a noise in the room, as one 
had been shoeing a horse, and somewhat came, as if 
i\ were with & pair of pincers, snipping at the smith's 

m most part of the night. 

One morning Mr. Mompesson rising early to go a 

heard a great noise below where the children 

iay, and running down with a pistol in his hand, he 

heard a voice crying " A witch, a witch," as they also 

had heard it once before. Upon his entrance all was 

Having one night played some little tricks at Mr. 
Mompesson's bed's feet, it went into another bed, where 
one of his daughters lay; there it went from side to 
<ide, lifting her up as it passed under. At the time that 
there were three kinds of noises in the bed, they endea- 
voured to thrust at it with a sword, but it still shifted and 
carefully avoided the thrust, still getting under the 
f'UWd, when they offered at it. The night after it 
d 2 



52 DRUMMER OF TEDWORTH. 

came panting like a dog out of breath; upon which 
one took a bed-staff to knock, which was caught out 
of her hand, and thrown away, and company coming 
up, the room was presently filled with a bloomy 
noisome smell, and was very hot, though without fire, 
in a very sharp and severe winter. It continued in the 
bed panting and scratching for an hour and half, and 
then went into the next chamber, where it knocked a 
little, and seemed to rattle a chain ; thus it did for two 
or three nights together. 

After this, the lady's bible was found in the ashes, 
the paper sides being downwards. Mr. Mompesson 
took it up, and observed that it lay open at the third 
chapter of St, Mark, where there is mention of the unclean 
spirits falling down before our Saviour, and of his giving 
power to the twelve to cast out devils, and of the 
scribes opinion, that he cast them out through Beelzebub. 

The next night they strewed ashes over the chamber, 
to see what impressions it would leave ; in the morning 
they found in one place the resemblance of a great 
claw, in another of a lesser, some letters in another, 
which they could make nothing of, besides many circles- 
arid scratches in the ashes. 

About this time, says Glanvil, I went to the house to enquire 
the truth of those passages, of which there was so loud a 
report. It had ceased from its drumming and ruder noises 
before I came thither, but most of the more remarkable cir- 
cumstances before related, were confirmed to me there, by 
several of the neighbours together, who had been present at 
them. At this time it used to haunt the children, and that as 
soon as they were laid. They went to bed that night I was 
there about eight o' clock, when a maid servant coming down 
from them, told us it was come. The neighbours who were 
there, and two ministers who had seen and heard it divers times, 
went away, but Mr. Mompesson and I, and a gentleman wha 



DRUMMER OF TEfcWORTH. 53 

e with me went up. I heard a strange scratching as I 
went up the stairs, and when we came into the room, I per- 
ceived it was just behind the bolster of the children's bed, and 
«eemed to be against the tick. It was as loud a scratching as 
one with long nails could make upon a bolster. There were 
two little modest girls in the bed, between seven and eight 
years old, as I guessed. I saw their hands out of the cloathes, 
and they could not contribute to the noise that was behind 
their heads ; they had been used to it, and had still some- 
body or other in the chamber with them, and therefore 
seemed not to be much affrighted. I, standing at the bed's 
head, thrust my hand behind the bolster, directing it to the 
place whence the noise seemed to come, whereupon the noise 
ceased there, and was heard in another part of the bed ; but 
when I had taken out my hand it returned, and w r as heard in 
the same place as before, I had been told it would imitate 
noises, and made trial by scratching several times upon the 
sheet, as five and seven and ten, w r hich it followed, still 
stopping at my number. I searched under and behind the bed, 
turned up the clothes to the bed-cords, grasped the bolster, 
sounded the wall behind, and made all the search that possi- 
bly I could, to find if there were any trick, contrivance, or 
common cause of it ; the like did my friend, but we could 
discover nothing. So that I was then verily persuaded, and 
am so still, that the noise was made by some demon or spirit. 
After it had scratched about half an hour more, it went into 
the midst of the bed under the children, and there seemed to 
pant like a dog out of breath, very loudly. I put my hand 
to the place, and felt the bed bearing up against it, as if 
something within had thrust it up. I grasped the feathers, 
to feel if any living thing were in it. I looked under 
and every where about, to see if there were any dog or cat 
or any such creature in the room, and so did we all, but 
found nothing. The motion it caused by this panting was so 
strong, that it shook the room and windows very sensibly. 
It continued thus more than half an hour, while my friend 
and I stayed in the room, and as long after, as we were told. 
During the panting, I chanced to see as it had been some- 
thing (which I thought was a rat or mouse) moving in a linen- 



54 DRUMMER OF TEDWORTH. 

bag, that hung up against another bed that was in the room, 
I stepped aud caught it by the upper end with one hand, with 
which I held it, and drew it through the other, but found 
nothing at all in it. There was nobody near to shake the bag, 
or if there had, no one could have made such a motion, which 
seemed to be from within, as if a living creature had moved 
in it. This passage I mentioned not in the former relations., 
because it depended npon my single testimony, and may be 
subject to more evasions than the other I related j but having 
told it to divers learned and inquisitive men, who thought it 
not altogether inconsiderable, I have now added it here. It 
will I know be said by some, that my friend and I were under 
some fright, and so fancied noises and sights that were not. 
This is the eternal evasion. But if it be possible to know 
how a man is affected when in fear, and when unconcerned ; 
I certainly know for my own part, that during the whole time 
of my being in the room, and in the house, I was under no 
more affright, than I am while I write this relation. And if 
I know that I am now awake, and that I see the objects that 
are before me, I know that I heard and saw the particu- 
lars I have told. There is, I am sensible, no great matter for 
story in them, but there is so much as convinceth me, that 
there was somewhat extraordinary, and what we usually call 
preternatural in the business. There were other passages 
at my being at Tedworth, which I published not, because 
they are not such plain and unexceptionable proofs. I shall 
now briefly mention them, Valeant quantum vakre possttnt. 
My friend and I lay in the chamber where the first and chief 
disturbance had been. We slept well all night, but early 
before day in the morning, I was awakened (and I awakened 
my .bed-fellow), by aloud knocking just without our chamber 
door. I asked who was there several times, but the knocking 
still continued without answer. At last I said, " In the name 
of God who is it, and what would you have ?" To which a 
voice answered, " nothing with you." We thinking it had 
been some servant of the house, went to sleep again. But 
speaking of it to Mr. Mompesson when we came down, he 
assured us, that no one of the house lay that way, or had 
business thereabout, and that his servants were not up till he 



DRUMMER OP TEDWORTH. 55 

tailed them, which was after it was day. They all af- 
firmed, and protested that the noise was not made by them. 
Mr. Mompesson had told us before, that it would be gone in 
the middle of the night, and come again divers times early in 
the morning, about four o'clock, and this I suppose was about 
that time. 

But to proceed with Mr. Mompesson s own par- 
ticulars. There came one morning a light into the 
children's chamber, and a voice crying * A witch, a 
witch," for at least an hundred times together. 

Mr. Mompesson at another time (being in the day), 
seeing some wood move that was in the chimney of a 
room where he was, as of itself, discharged a pistol 
toto it, after which they found several drops of blood 
on the hearth, and in divers places of the stairs. 

For two or three nights after the discharge of the 
pistol, there was a calm in the house, but then it came 
again, applying itself to a little child newly taken from 
nurse, which it so persecuted, that it would not let 
the poor infant rest for two nights together, nor suffer 
candles in the room, but carried them away lighted, 
up the chimney, or threw them under the bed. It so 
Beared this child by leaping upon it, that for some 
hours it could not be recovered from the fright, so that 
they were forced again to remove the children out of the 
house. The next night after which, something about 
midnight came up stairs, and knocked at Mr. Mom- 
- son's door, but he lying still, it went up another pair 
of stairs, to his man's chamber, to whom it ap- 
peared, standing at his bed's-foot ; the exact shape and 
proportion he could not discover, but he saith he saw 
-a great body, with two red and glaring eyes, which, 
for sometime, were fixed steadily upon him, and at 
gib. disappeared. 
About the beginning of April, 1663, a gentleman 



<5<3 DRUMMER OP MDWORTHf, 

who lay in the house, had all his money turned 
black in his pockets ; and Mr. Mompesson coming one 
morning into his stable, found the horse he was wont 
to ride on the ground, having one of his hinder legs 
in his mouth, and so fastened there, that it was difficult 
for several men to get it out with a lever. After this, 
there were some other remarkable things, but the ac- 
count goes no further ; only Mr. Mompesson positively 
asserted, that afterwards the house was several nights 
beset with seven or eight in the shape of men, who, 
as soon as a gun was discharged, would shuffle away 
together into harbour* 

The drummer was tried at the assizes at Salisbury 
upon this occasion. He was committed first to Glou- 
cester gaol for stealing, and a Wiltshire man coming to 
see him, he asked what news in Wiltshire ; the visitant 
said, he knew of none. " No/'saith the drummer, " do 
not you hear of the drumming at a gentleman's house at 
Tedworth }» "That I do enough/' said the other. " I," 
quoth the drummer, " I have plagued him (or to that 
purpose^) and he shall never be quiet until he hath 
made me satisfaction for taking away my drum." Upon 
information of this, the fellow was tried for a witch at 
Sarum, and all the main circumstances here related, were 
sworn at the assizes, by the minister of the parish, and 
divers others of the most intelligent and substantial 
inhabitants, who had been eye and ear witnesses of 
them, time after time, for several years together. 

The fellow was condemned to transportation, and 
accordingly sent away ; but by some means, (it is said 
by raising storms, and affrighting the seamen) he made 
shift to come back again. And it is observable, that 
during all the time of his restraint and absence, the 
house was quiet, but as soon as he was set at liberty* 
the disturbance returned. 



LANCASHIRE CURATE, CLERK, AND SEXTON. 57 

He had been a soldier under Cromwell, and used to 
talk much of gallant books he had of an old fellow, who 
was accounted a wizard. 

This is the sum of Mr. Monrpesson's disturbance, 
partly from his own mouth, related before many persons, 
who had been witnesses of all, and confirmed his relation ; 
and partly from his own letters, from which the order and 
series of things is taken. The same particulars he sent 
also to Dr. Creed, who was at that time Doctor of the 
Chair in Oxford. 

Mr. Mompesson suffered by it in his name, in his 
estate, in all his affairs, and in the general peace of his 
family. The unbelievers in spirits and witches took 
him for an impostor. Many others judged the permis- 
sion of such an extraordinary evil to be the judgment 
Of God upon him, for some notorious wickedness or 
impiety. Thus his name was continually exposed to 
censure, and his estate suffered, by the concourse of 
people from all parts to his house, by the diversion it 
gave him from his affairs, by the discouragement of 
servants, by reason of which he could hardly get any to 
live with him. 

The drummer of Tedworth met with great opposition 
when iirst narrated, and several violent controversies 
took place. 

THE LANCASHIRE CURATE, CLERK, AND SEXTON 

Towards the end of the last century, a clergyman, 
in Lancashire, before he began to read -prayers, at 
church, saw a paper lying in his book, which he sup- 
posed to be the banns of marriage. He opened it, and 
saw written in a fair and distinct hand, to the following 
purport : " That John P. and James D. had murdered 
a travelling man, had robbed him of his effects, and 



59 warning to james tv., At uimrmow, 

buried him in such an orchard/' The minister was ; 
extremely startled, and asked his clerk hastily if he had 
placed any paper in the prayer-book. The clerk de- 
clared he had not ; but the minister prudently concealed 
the contents of the paper, for the two names therein 
cc-ntained were those of the clerk and sexton of the 
church. 

The minister then went directly to a magistrate, told 
him what had happened, and took the paper out of his 
pocket to read % when, to bis great surprise, nothing 
appeared thereon, but it was a plain piece of white 
paper ! The magistrate now said that his head must 
certainly have been distempered, when he imagined 
such strange contents upon a blank piece of paper. The 
clergyman, by earnest entreaties, however, prevailed on 
the justice to grant his warrant against the clerk and 
sexton; who were taken up on suspicion, and separately 
confined and examined, when many contradictions ap- 
peared in their examination ; for the sexton, who 
kept an alehouse, owned having lodged such a man at 
his house, and the clerk said he was that evening at the 
sexton's. It was now thought proper to search their 
houses, in which were found several pieces of gold, and 
goods belonging to men that travel the country ; yet 
they gave so tolerable an account of these that no posi- 
tive proof could be made out, till the clergyman, recol- 
lecting that the paper mentioned the dead body to be 
buried in such an orchard, a circumstance which had 
before escaped his memory, the place was searched, 
and the body was found ; on hearing which the sexton 
confessed the fact, accusing the clerk as his accomplice, 
and they were both executed accordingly. 

WARNING TO JAMES IV. AT LINLITHGOW. 

Buchanan, in his History of Scotland, gives the fol- 
lowing extraordinary adventure : — 



APPARITION AT BELFAST, IK IRELAND. 6$ 

While James IV. staid at Linlithgow, to gather up 
.lie scattered remains of his army, which had been de* 
feated by the Earl of Surrey, at Flodden -field, he went 
into the church of St. Michael there, to hear evening 
prayer. While he was at his devotion, a remarkable 
figure of an ancient man, with flowing amber-coloured 
hair hanging over his shoulders, his forehead high, and 
inclining to baldness, his garments of a fine blue colour, 
somewhat long and girded together with a fine white 
^loth, and of very reverend aspect, was seen inquiring 
for the king ; when his majesty being pointed out to 
him, he made his way through the crowd till he came 
to him, and then, with a clownish simplicity, leaning 
over the canon's seat, he addressed him in the following 
words . " Sir, I am sent hither to entreat you to delay 
your intended expedition for this time, and proceed no 
farther, for if you do, you will be unfortunate, and not 
prosper in your enterprise, nor any of your followers. — 
I am further charged to warn you not to follow the ac- 
quaintance, company, or counsel of women, as you 
value your life, honour, and estate. " After giving him this 
admonition, he withdrew himself back again through the 
crowd, and disappeared. When service w T as ended, the 
king enquired earnestly after him, but he could not be 
found or heard of any where, neither could any of the 
by-standers feel or perceive how, when, or where he 
passed from them, having in a manner vanished from 
their sight. 

APPARITION AT BELFAST IN IRELAND. 

There was once a long contest between Lemuel 
Matthews, archdeacon in the county of Down, and 
Claudius Gilbert, minister of Belfast, about their right to 
Drumbeg, a small parish near Belfast ; and it proved trou- 
lesome to the parishioners, who had paid their dues to 
Mr. Gilbert, the incumbent. The archdeacon claimed 



60 THE MERCHANT'S APFR£KTrc£& 

it to be paid to him also, for which he procured a war-* 
rant; and in the execution of it by his servants, at 
the house of one Charles Loftin, they offered some 
violence to his wife, who refused entrance, and who 
died of the injury a few weeks after, Mrs. L. being an 
infirm woman, little notice was taken of her death, till 
some time after, by her strange appearance to one 
Thomas Donelson, (a witness of the violence done to 
her) when she induced him to commence a prosecution 
against Robert Eccleson, the criminal. She appeared 
several times, but chiefly upon one Sunday evening* 
Before her last coming (for she appeared three times 
that day), several neighbours were called in, to whom 
he gave notice that she should re-appear, and beckoned 
to him to come out ; upon which they were about to 
shut the door, but he forbad it* His friends detained 
him, notwithstanding which she again charged him to 
prosecute Eccleson ; which voice, as also Donelson's 
reply, the people heard, though they saw no shape. 
There are many witnesses of this circumstance yet alive, 
particularly Sarah, the wife of Charles Loftin, son to 
the deceased woman; and one William Holiday and 
his wife. 

Upon this, Donelson deposed what he knew, before 
Mr. Randal Brice, a justice of the peace, and confirmed 
all at the assizes at Down, in the year 1685, where the 
several witnesses were sworn ; and their examinations 
were entered in the records of the assize, to the amaze- 
ment ami satisfaction of all the country, and of the 
judges. Eccleson hardly escaped with his life, but was 
burnt in the hand.-— Baxter s World of Spirits, 1796. 

THE MERCHANT'S APPRENTICES. 

A certain merchant having formed a trading esta- 
blishment in one of the English colonies in America, 



the merchant's apprentices. 61 

sent over several of his servants or apprentices thither. 
One of his apprentices being fitted out, and ready, to 
embark, his cargo actually being on board the ship, and 
the ship fallen down to Gravesend, his master was pre- 
paring letters and despatches, which prevented his dining 
with him at the usual hour, and he told him he must stay 
in the counting-house till he came to relieve him. Ac- 
cordingly, dinner being over, he left the dining-room to 
send him up to dinner. When he came to the coun- 
ting-house door, his man was seated there, with the 
book-keeper also, writing as he left him. 

At this moment, the merchant had occasion to return 
up stairs to the dining-room, from whence he came ; 
when he left the youth in the counting-house, and went 
immediately up stairs. 

When he reached the top of the stairs, the young 
man was seated at dinner with the other servants ; the 
room they dined in being a small parlour, which opened 
against the stairs, so that he saw him from the upper 
part of the staircase, and could not be deceived. 

The master did not speak to him ; but the surprize 
made him pass by the room, and go into the dining- 
room, which was to the right hand of it; but he sent his 
servant immediately to look, when he there found the 
youth at dinner; so that what he (the master) saw 
below in the counting-house, must have been the ap- 
parition of the young man. 

The young gentleman embarked as above, and 
arrived safe in America. lie left his elder brother in 
London, who was at that time studying physic. 
Shortly after this he had an accidental rencontre with 
a gentleman in Short-street, leading from Fleet-street 
into Salisbury -square ; and being a complete master of 
kk weapon, he wounded his antagonist, and drove him 



€2 SIR CHARLES LEE J S DAUGHTER. 

into a tavern in the street, whence came out two othef 
men with their swords ; but both of them found the gen^ 
tleman so much an over-match for them, that they left 
him as fast as the first. A fourth now came out with a 
fire-poker, taken hastily out of the tavern kitchen, and 
running at this gentleman with it, knocked him down and 
fractured his skull, of which wound he afterwards died. 

While this was done in London, his brother, at 
Boston, in New England, wrote to his master the mer- 
chant, and who gave this account of it, after other busi- 
ness, in the following postscript: — 

Ci Sir, I beg you will be pleased, in your return to this, 
to let me have some account, as much as conveniently may- 
be, how my brother does, and what condition he is in; 
which importunity I'hope you will excuse, when you read 
the following account : — 

M On the 20th of June last, about six o'clock in the morn- 
ing, lying in bed, and broad awake, my brother or an appa- 
rition of my brother, came to the bed's feet and opened the 
curtain, looking full in my face, but did not speak. I was 
very much frightened ; but, however, I so far recovered as 
to say to him, Brother, what is the matter with you ? 

" He had a napkin-cap on his head, which was very 
bloody; he looked very pale and ghastly, and said, 'I am 
basely murdered by one (naming the person) ; but I shall 
have justice done me :' and then disappeared." 

This letter was so dated, that it was impossible any 
account could have been sent of the disaster that could 
reach America within that time; for it was not dated 
above fourteen days after the fact actually occurred in 
London. — Moreton on Apparitions. 

SIR CHARLES LEE's DAUGHTER. 

Sir Charles Lee, by his first lady, had only one 
daughter, of which she died in child-birth. After her 
death, her sister, Lady Everard desired to have the edu- 



SIR CHARLES LEe's DAUGHTER, 63 

cation of the child) which she educated till she was 
marriageable; when a match was concluded for her 
with Sir William Perkins ; but was prevented in an 
extraordinary manner. 

One Thursday night, Miss Lee imagined that she saw 
a light in her chamber after she was in bed, when she 
rang for her maid, who presently came to her; and she 
asked why she left a candle burning in her chamber. 
The maid said she left none, and there was none, but 
what she brought with her at that time. She then said 
it was the fire ; but the maid told her that was quite 
out, and said she believed it was only a dream. She 
then said it might be so, and composed herself again to 
sleep. About two o'clock she was awaked again, and 
>aw the apparition of a little woman between her cur- 
tain and her pillow, who told her she was her mother; 
and that she was happy, and that by twelve o'clock 
(hat day she should be with her. She again rang for 
the maid, called for her clothes, and when dressed, 
went into her closet, and did not quit it till nine; when 
she brought out with her a letter sealed to her father, 
i^ave it to her aunt, the Lady Everard, told her what had 
happened, and desired that, as soon as she was dead, it 
might be sent to him. Her aunt, judging her to be de- 
lirious, sent to Chelmsford for a physician, who came 
immediately. He could discern no indication of what 
the lady imagined, or any indisposition ; notwithstand- 
ing the lady would be bled, which was done accord- 
ingly. The young woman then desired that the chap- 
lain might be called to read prayers, and when prayers 

re ended, she took her guitar and psalm-book, and 
played and sang melodiously. About twelve o'clock, 
she rose and seated herself in an arm-chair, and imme- 
diately expired. This event took place in 1662, at 



64 COUNSELLOR JOHN BOURNE. 

Waltham, in Essex, three miles from Chelmsford, and 
the letter was sent to Sir Charles at his house in War- 
wickshire. It was communicated by him to the Lord 
Bishop of Gloucester, and was first published by Beau- 
mont, in his " Treatise on Spirits/' 

COUNSELLOR JOHN BOURNE, 

Of Durley in Ireland. 
Mr. John Bourne, for his skill, and integrity, was 
made by his neighbour, John Mallet, Esq. of Enmore, 
the chief of his trustees for his estate. In 1654, Mr. 
Bourne fell sick at his house at Durley, when bis life 
was pronounced by a physician to be in imminent 
danger. Within twenty-four hours, when the doctor 
and Mrs. Carlisle, a relation of Mr. Bourne (whose 
husband he had made one of his heirs), were sitting by his 
bedside, the doctor opened the curtains at the bed foot 
to give him air ; when suddenly a great iron chest by 
the window at his bed feet, with three locks, (in which 
were all the writings and evidences of Mr. Mallett's 
estate), began to open, lock by lock. The lid of the 
iron chest then lifted up itself, and stood wide open. 
Mr. Bourne, who had not spoken for twenty-four hours, 
lilted himself up also, and looking upon the chest, cried, 
"you say true, you say true, you are in the right, I'll be 
with you by and bye." The patient then lay down and 
spoke no more. The chest fell again* of itself, and 
locked itself lock by lock, and Mr. Bourne died within 
an hour afterwards. 

OMENS OF THE MURDER OF MR. BLANDY. 

Several awful presages are said to have alarmed the 
family of the unfortunate Mr. Blandy, of Henley, in 
Oxfordshire, previous to his untimely death, A few 
days before the death of his wife, a grand chorus of 



OMENS OF THE MURDER OF MR. BLANDY. 65 

music was heard by the daughter and several of the 
servants at midnight, as if proceeding from the garden 
behind the apartment where Mrs. Blandy lay. This 
was succeeded by three distinct knocks on the window 
of Miss Blandy's chamber, adjoining to that of her 
mother. Meanwhile the old lady, though insensible of 
those sounds, was horribly frightened by a dream, in 
which she saw her husband drinking a cup administered 
by her daughter ; presently he swelled to a monster, 
and instantly expired. When she awoke in the morn- 
ing, she told the dream to her waiting maid, and died 
the same day. This happened about two years before 
the memorable murder of Mr. Blandy, of the approach 
of which he had several ominous presages. 

The story of this dreadful parricide is briefly as fol- 
lows: — Mr. Blandy was an eminent attorney, and by 
his practice had accumulated several thousand pounds : 
he had an only child, his daughter, Miss Mary, whom, 
as a kind of pious fraud, he gave out to be worth thirty 
thousand pounds. Captain William Cranston, brother 
of Lord Cranston, of Scotland, a short time before the 
death of Mrs. Blandy, was upon a recruiting party in 
Oxfordshire, and hearing of the lady's fortune, found 
means to introduce himself to the family. He soon 
gained an ascendency over the mother; and the daugh- 
ter discovered a very sensible feeling for the soldier. 
But there was an almost insuperable obstacle in the way 
of their mutual happiness. The captain had been pri- 
vately married in Scotland. This, however, he hoped 
to get over by a decree in the supreme court of session. 
That expectation proving but ill-founded, Mr. Blandy 
would not assent to the union of his daughter with such 
a man, however honourable by birth. 

The mother died suddenly. — The father remained in 



66 PRESAGE TO ROBERT BRUCE. 

exorable, and could not be induced to grant his consent* 
This set the Captain's sanguine soul to work. The 
affection of Miss Blandy for this profligate, almost 
double her age, was violent. He imposed upon her 
credulity; sent her from Scotland a pretended love- 
powder, which he enjoined her to administer to her 
father, in order to gain his affection, and procure his 
consent. This injunction she declined, on account of a 
frightful dream, in which she fancied her father falling 
from a precipice into the ocean. The captain wrote a 
second time ; told her his design in words rather enig- 
matical, but easily understood by her. This had an 
amazing effect on Miss B., and so elated was her mind 
with the project of removing her father, that she was 
heard to exclaim, before several of the servants, *' Who 
would not send an old fellow to hell for thirty thousand 
pounds ?" 

The die was cast : the powder was mixed in the tea : 
the father drank, and soon after swelled enormously. — 
il What have you given me, Mary ?" cried the unhappy 
dying man, "you have murdered me ; of this I was warn- 
ed, but alas, I thought it was a false alarm ! O fly — take 
care of the captain!" — Thus he died, a most melan- 
choly spectacle. Miss Blandy was taken while attempting 
to run away, conducted to Oxford Castle, lay there till 
the assizes, was found guilty, and executed. Captain 
Cranston went abroad, and died in a miserable state of 
mind soon afterwards. 

OMINOUS PRESAGE TO ROBERT BRUCE OF SCOTLAND. 

Bruce, the restorer of the Scottish monarchy, in the 
reign of Edward II. of England, having been out one day 
to reconnoitre the enemy, lay that night in a barn belonging 
to a loyal farmer. In the morning, still reclining his 



CAPTAIN PORTEOCS. 67 

head on the straw pillow, he beheld a spider climbing 
a beam of the roof. The insect fell to the ground, and 
immediately made a second essay to ascend. This at- 
tracted the notice of the hero, who with regret saw the 
spider fall a second time from the same eminence. It 
made a third attempt without success; and, in short, 
the monarch, not without a mixture of concern and 
curiosity, beheld the insect no less than twelve times 
baffled in its aim : but the thirteenth trial carried its 
success. The spider gained the summit of the vazes ; 
when the king, starting from his couch, thus exclaimed 
in soliloquy : " Behold this despicable insect has taught 
me perseverance! I will follow its example. Have not 
I been twelve times defeated by the superior force of the 
enemy ? On one fight more hangs the independency of 
my kingdom/' In a few days was fought the memorable 
battle of Bannockbourn, in which Bruce proved vic- 
torious, slew thirty thousand of the invading enemy, and 
restored the monarchy of Scotland. 

CAPTAIN PORTEOUS. 

The following narrative was found, in 1796, in the 
study of an eminent divine of the church of Scotland : — 

A married lady lately saw, one day at noon, in a 
vision, a child, then in embryo in her womb, rise to an 
elevated situation in the world, having the command of 
soldiers, dragged to a dungeon, tried for murder, con- 
demned, pardoned, but soon after torn to pieces by the 
populace. After this she imagined much confusion 
arose in the country, till the name of her son was ren- 
ed odious and detestable to the whole nation. 

The child agreeable to the prediction, proving a son, 
much care was taken in/ his education, at one of the 
public schools of Edinburgh. When he grew up he 
discovered a strong inclination for travelling. He went 



6b CAPTAIN PORTEOtJS. 

abroad without the consent of his parents, remained 
many years in the king's service abroad, and after ob- 
taining his discharge, resided for some years in London, 
All this time he was totally unmindful of his filial duty, 
and indeed he never took the least notice of his parents, 
who now lived in a recluse situation about ten miles 
west from Edinburgh ; to which city the hero of the s:ory 
returned about the year 1735, and was, by the interest 
of a gentleman, appointed to the command of the city 
guard. This captain was no less a personage than the 
noted Porteous. 

One day, as the captain was mustering his men in a 
field adjacent to the city, he cast his eyes upon a man 
of Musselburgh, who was reputed to possess the second 
sight. The captain called the augur aside, and required 
him to foretel his destiny. The poor soothsayer, with 
much reluctance, informed the curious enquirer that his 
time would be but short; that he would be a midnight 
market-man. This threw the officer into a violent 
rage ; and had not the sage softened the sentence, by 
an explanation which gave a different turn to it, he cer- 
tainly would have suffered a severe flagellation. 

Soon after this, two notorious smugglers were con- 
demned to die at Edinburgh, for breaking into the 
king's storehouse at Leith, and carrying away goods 
which had been seized by the officers of the revenue. 
These men, on the Sunday preceding the day of execu- 
tion, were conducted to one of the churches, as was 
customary, under a guard. During the sermon, not- 
withstanding the vigilance of Captain Porteous, one of 
the prisoners found means to make his escape, and get 
clear off. The other was executed on the Wednesday 
following in the Grass-market, contrary to the desire of 
the populace. As soon as the man was turned off, the 



CAPTAIN' PORTEOUS. 69 

boys began to pelt the executioner ; and the impetuous 
captain, who then attended with a strong party, com- 
manded the men to level their pieces, and follow his 
example. He himself tired upon a young gentleman of 
a good family from the Highlands, and killed him upon 
the spot ; and the men instantly discharging their mus- 
kets, killed several of the citizens, who were beholding 
from their windows the dreadful spectacle. 

The captain was seized by order of the Lord Provost, 
conducted to the Tolbooth, tried by the Lords of Jus- 
ticiary, and being found guilty on the clearest evidence, 
received sentence of death. 

It was at this time that his mother, who alone was 
living, heard of the awful situation of a man whom she 
knew to be her son, by a letter which she received from 
him during his troubles, The lady readily recollected 
her dream, flew to Edinburgh in the utmost distress, and 
would have been quite distracted, had she not been in- 
formed that great interest was making at London in 
favour of the captain. 

In a few days a respite arrived from the Queen (for 
George II. was then at Hanover), with an order to se- 
cure the captain in the castle. This quite altered the 
face of affairs with the captain and his mother, who 
began to ridicule the prediction of the dream, and the 
hsayer. That evening they made merry with 
several friends in the prison, till the captain became in- 
toxicated, and consequently unprepared to meet the 
awful fate which awaited him. He was instantly 
alarmed by a report that the city was up in arms, and 
intent on his destruction. The noise of sledge-hammers 
the iron doors scon convinced him that the alarm 
was not chimerical. In short, the enraged multitude 
gained entrance, dragged forth the captain, led him in 



70 VISION OF THEODOSIUS. 

triumph along the High -street, procured a rope, reached 
the usual place of execution, and after suffering him to 
say a short prayer, hung him upon a projecting pole; 
which proved an almost literal accomplishment of the 
visionary prediction of the mother, who did not long sur- 
vive the calamity of the son. 

The confusion in the established national church, oc- 
casioned by the Queen's proclamation being read by 
some, and burnt by others, is well known. 

VISION OF THEODOSIUS THE ROMAN EMPEItOR. 

A variety of instances of supernatural interpositions 
are to be ibund amongst the antients : but the following is 
well attested by Theodoret and Livy :— 

In the western empire lived one Eugenius, an aspiring 
man, who from keeping a grammar school, had risen to 
the office of Lord High Treasurer. Eugenius bemg 
elated with the extraordinary reputation of his e!o~ 
quence and merit, entered into a plot with one Arbo- 
gastes, a Frenchman by birth, to possess himself 
of the emperorship, and, by his assurances and great 
promises, prevailed upon the eunuchs of the emperor's 
bed-chamber to strangle their master Yalentinian, 
while he was sleeping. Having perpetrated this hor- 
rible murder, he next consulted the diviners and astro- 
logers, who gave him every assurance that he should ob- 
tain a complete victory, gain the empire, and extirpate 
the Christian religion. 

Upon this, he soon assembled forces, and made him- 
self master, of the Julian Alps, where he lay securely 
encamped amongst the mountains. This news sur- 
prised and perplexed Theodosius ; who after conferring 
the imperial title on his son Honorius, mustered a con- 
siderable number of troops, and arriving in Gaul, found 



VISION OF THEODGSIUS. 71 

Eugenius ready to oppose him with a very superior 
army. The emperor's officers, at the same time, ad-? 
▼ised him to avoid the battle till he might bring an army 
into the field more numerous than that of the usurper. 

About sun-rise he fell asleep upon the ground and 
dreamed he saw two men cloathed in white garments, 
and riding on white horses, who bad him lay aside all 
solicitude, and draw up his army in order of battle very 
early that morning and attack the enemy. They told 
him they were John the Evangelist, and Philip the 
Apostle; and that they were sent to fight for him- at the 
head of his troops. The emperor waked and renewed 
devotions, aad addressed himself to heaven with 
ter fervency than before this vision. His men 
marched down with great alacrity and courage from the 
mountains'; and the two armies came to a battle at a 
river called Frigidus, about thirty-six miles from 
Aquileia. Romans now engaged Romans, and the 
action was very hot and obstinate, and many fell op, 
both sides ; but the Eugenians pressed hard upon the 
barbarians, who had flocked from Thrace, and offered 
themselves in great numbers in this expedition. 

At length the emperor seeing all hope cut off, threw 
himself prostrate on the ground, and recommended his 
cause to God. The officers of the parties that lined the 
mountains now sent him assurances, that they would 
come over to him if he would promise that they should 
hold the same posts under him which they held under 
Eugenius : and this he had no sooner done under his 
own hand, but they deserted to him. Bacurius also, 
of the emperor's generals, inspired with sudden 
resolution, and putting himself in the front of the re- 
treating troops, broke the enemy, and routed them ; 



IZ VISION OP THEODOSIUS. 

and there arose, on a sudden, a violent storm of wind, 
so violent, that it not only carried the weapons of the 
emperors army with redoubled force upon the enemy, 
and returned those of the rebels upon themselves, but 
even forced their shields out of their hands, and whirled 
them back again, covered with dust and stubble ; and 
raised such violent clouds of dust, as almost put out 
their eyes ; in a word, it entirely disarmed them, and 
put them into confusion, so that the greater part of 
them were either killed upon the spot, or overtaken in 
the rout, and made prisoners ; as many as threw down 
their arms and implored pardon, obtained it, 

Thus the usurper lost the day, and those from 
whose hands he expected the person of his sovereign, 
were sent by his master to fetch him down from his 
hill. As soon as he saw them climbing it, and approach- 
ing towards him, he asked them whether they had 
brought' Theodosius along with them. Their answer 
was, they came, by the appointment of God, to carry 
him to Theodosius : and immediately they pulled him 
from his seat, and brought him to the emperor, who 
severely reproached and expostulated with him for the 
murder of Valentinian, and for all his treason and 
rebellion. In conclusion, the soldiers struck off his head 
as he was begging quarter, at the emperor's feet, where 
he hoped to save his life. The day of this overthrow 
and execution was the sixth of September, in Arcadius's 
third, and Honorius's second consulate. The traitorous 
General A rbogastes, the principal agent in this mischief, 
after he had preserved himself by flight three days, 
finding it impossible to escape the stroke of justice, put 
an end to his life by his own .sword. It is confidently 
said, that within the time of this action, a demoniac 
that happened to be in the church which the emperor 



MAJOR SYDENHAM AND CAPTAIN DYKE. 73 

built in honour of St. John the Baptist, where, in his 
march, he had implored a blessing upon his arms, was 
carried up from the ground, railed at and reviled St. 
John, ridiculed him for losing his head, and roared out 
aloud, " : Tis you that are defeating and destroying my 
army." Those that were there present, made a memo- 
randum of the day on which they were thus surprised, 
and found it afterwards to be that on which the battle 
was fought. 

MAJOR SYDENHAM AND CAPTAIN WILLIAM DYKE. 

Major George Sydenham resided at Dulverton, 
in the county of Somerset, and Captain William Dyke 
at Skilgate, in the same county. Shortly after the 
death of the former, a doctor was desired to attend a sick 
child at the major's house. In his way thither he 
called on the captain, who willingly accompanied him to 
the place. Soon after their arrival at the house they 
were conducted to their lodging, which they desired 
might be in one bed; where, after they bad laid 
awhile, the captain knocked and bade the servant bring 
him two large candles lighted. The doctor enquired 
what he meant by this ? The captain answered, " You 
know what disputes the major and I used to have 
touching the being of a God and the immortality of 
the soul. On these points we could never agree. It 
was at length fuliy agreed between us, that he that 
died first should the third night after his funeral, between 
the hours of twelve and one, come to the summer- 
house in the garden, and there give a full account to 
the survivor touching these matters, who should be sure 
to be present there at the time, and thus receive satis- 
faction. This," said the captain, " is the night, and 
I am come to fulfil my promise/' The doctor dis- 

£ 



74' MAJOR SYDENHAM AND CAPTAIN DYKB. 

suaded hirn, reminding him of the danger of following 
those strange counsels. The captain replied that he had 
solemnly engaged, and that nothing should discourage 
him : and he was resolved to watch, that he might be 
sure to be present at the hour appointed. As soon as he 
perceived that it was half past eleven, he rose, and taking 
a candle in each hand, went out by a back door, and 
walked to the garden-house, where he continued two 
hours and a half, and, at his return, declared that he 
had neither seen nor heard any thing more than usual. 

About six weeks afterwards, the captain rode to Eton, 
accompanied by the doctor. They lodged there at an 
inn, and tarried two or three nights, not sleeping 
together as at Dulverton, but in separate chambers. 
The morning previous to their return, the captain staid 
in his chamber longer than usual before he called 
the doctor. At length he entered the doctor's cham- 
ber, but with his hair erect, his eyes staring, and 
his whole body shaking and trembling. The doctor, 
filled with surprise, presently demanded, " What is the 
matter, cousin captain ? v The captain replied, " I have 
seen my major.'' The doctor smiled, when the cap- 
tain immediately said, " If ever I saw him in my life, 
I saw him just now," He then related to the doctor 
what had passed, in these words; " This morning soon 
after it was light, some one came to my bed-side, and 
suddenly drawing back the curtains, called " Cap. cap." 
(this being the term of familiarity by which the major 
used to call the captaiu,) to whom I replied, " What, my 
major?" He answered, " I could not come at the 
time appointed, but I am now come to tell you, that there 
is. a God, and a very just and terrible one ; and if you 
do not turn over a new leaf, you will find it so." On 
the table there lay a sword which the major had for- 



JAMES, EARL OF MARLBOROUGH. 75 

rnerly given me. After the apparition had paced about 
the chamber, he took up the sword, drew it out, and 
finding it not so clean and bright as usual, " Cap. Cap/' 
said he, " this sword was not used to be kept after this 
manner when it was mine." After these words he 
suddenly disappeared. 

The captain was not only thoroughly persuaded of 
the truth of this narrative, but was from that time ob- 
served to be much affected with it, during the remaining 
two years of his life. — Aubrey 's Miscellanies. 

Letter written by James Earl of Marlborough, a short 
time before his Death, in the Battle at Sea on the 
Coast of Holland, 1665, directed to the Bight Hon. 
Sir Hugh Potlard, Comptroller to his Majesty* 
Household. 

Sir, — I believe the goodness of your nature, and the 
friendship you have always borne me, will receive with 
kindness the last office of your friend. I am in health 
enough of body, and (through the mercy of God) well 
disposed in mind. This I premise, that you may be sa- 
tisfied that what I write proceeds not from fantastic 
terror of mind, but from a sober resolution of what con- 
cerns myself, and earnest desire to do you more good 
after my death, than my example (God of his mercy 
pardon the badness of it,) in my life-time may do you 
harm. I will not speak out of the vanity of this world ; 
your own age and experience will save that labour : 
but there is a certain thing that goeth up and down the 
world, called religion, dressed and pretended fantas- 
tically, and to purposes bad enough, which yet, by such 
evil dealing, looseth not its being : the great good God 
hath not left it without a witness, more or less, sooner 
or later, in every man's bosom, to direct us in the pur- 
e 2 



76 JAMES, EARL OP MARLBOROUGH. 

suit of it ; and for the avoiding of those inextricable 
disquisitions and entanglements our own frail reason 
would perplex us withal, God, in his infinite mercy 
hath given us his holy word ; in which as there are 
many things hard to be understood, so there is enough 
plain and easy, to quiet our minds, and direct us con- 
cerning our future being. I confess to God and you, 
I have been a great neglecter, and, I fear, great despiser 
of it : God of his infinite mercy pardon me the dreadful 
fault. But when I retired myself from the noise and de- 
ceitful vanity of the world, I found no true comfort in 
any other resolution, than what I had from thence : I 
commend from the bottom of my heart (he same to 
your (I hope) happy use. Dear Sir Hugh, let us be 
more generous than to believe we die as the beasts that 
perish ; but with a Christian, manly, brave resolution, 
look to what is eternal. I will not trouble you farther. 
The only great God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 
direct you to an happy end of your life, and send us 
a joyful resurrection. 

So prays your true friend, Marlborough. 

Old James, near the Coast of 
Holland, April 24,1 665. j 

I beseech you commend my love to all my acquaint- 
ance ; particularly, I pray you that my cousin Glas- 
cock may have ^i sight of this letter, and as many 
friends besides as you will, or any else that desire it — 
I pray grant this my request. 

This letter, though weighty in matter, and serious in 
its phraseology, is most remarkable for the time in 
which it was written, namely, but a few days before the 
Earl died. 



SIR JOHN SHERBROKE AND GENERAL WYNYARD. 

These gentlemen were, as young men, officers in the 
same regiment, which was employed on foreign service. 
They were connected by similarity of tastes and studies, 
and spent together, in literary occupation, much of that 
vacant time, which was squandered by their brother 
officers, in those excesses of the table, which, some 
forty years ago, were considered among the necessary 
accomplishments of the military character. They were 
one afternoon sitting in Wynyard's apartment. It was 
perfectly light, the hour was about four o'clock ; they 
had dined, but neither of them had drunk wine, and 
they had retired from the mess to continue together the 
occupations of the morning. It ought to have been said, 
that the apartment in which they were, had two doors in 
it, the one opening into a passage, and the other leading 
into Wynyard's bedroom. There was no other means 
of entering the sitting-room but from the passage and 
no other egress from the bed-room but through the 
sitting-room ; so that any person passing into the bed- 
room must have remained there, unless he returned by 
the way he entered. This point is of consequence to 
the story. 

As these two young officers were pursuing their 
studies, Sherbroke, whose eye happened accidentally 
to glance from the volume before him towards the door 
that opened to the passage, observed a tall youth, 
of about twenty years of age, whose appearance was 
that of extreme emaciation, standing beside it. Struck 
with the presence of a perfect stranger, he immediately 
turned to his friend, who was sitting near him, and di 
rected his attention to the guest who had thus strangely 
broken in upon their studies. As soon as Wynyard's 



78 SIR JOHN SHERBROKE AND GEN. WYNYARD. 

eyes were turned towards the mysterious visitor, his 
countenance became suddenly agitated. ** I have 
heard," says Sir John Sherbroke, " of a man's being as 
pale as death, but I never saw a living face assume the 
appearance of a corpse, except Wynyard's at that rno- 
ment.'" — As they looked silently at the form before 
them, — for Wynyard, w T ho seemed to apprehend the im- 
port of the appearance, was deprived of the faculty of 
speech, and Sherbroke perceiving the agitation of his 
friend, felt no inclination to address it, — as they looked 
silently upon the figure, it proceeded slowly into the ad- 
joining apartment, and, in the act of passing them, cast 
its eyes with an expression of somewhat melancholy 
affection on young Wynyard. The oppression of this 
extraordinary presence was no sooner removed, than 
Wynyard, seizing his friend by the arm and draw T ipg a 
deep breath, as if recovering from the suffocafcon of in- 
tense astonishment and emotion, muttered in a low and 
almost inaudible tone of voice, " Great God J my bro- 
ther!" — "Your brother!" repeated Sherbroke, "what 
can you mean, Wynyard ? there must be some decep- 
tion — follow me;" and immediately taking his friend 
by the arm, he preceded him into the bed room, which, 
as before stated, was connected with the sitting-room, 
and into which the strange visitor had evidently entered. 
It has already been said, that from this chamber there 
was no possibility of withdrawing but by the way of the 
apartment, through which the figure had certainly 
passed, and as certainly never had returned. Imagine 
then the astonishment of the young officers, when, on 
finding themselves in the centre of the chamber, they 
perceived that the room was perfectly untenanted. 
Wynyard's mind had received an impression at the 
first moment of his observing him, that the figure whom 



SIR JOHN SHERBROKE AND GEN. WYNYARD. 79 

he had seen was the spirit of his brother. Sherbrok© 
still persevered in strenuously believing that some delu- 
sion had been practised. 

They took note of the day and hour in which the 
event had happened; but they resolved not to mention 
the occurrence in the regiment, and gradually they 
persuaded each other that they had been imposed upon 
by some artifice of their fellow-officers, though they 
could neither account for the reason, nor suspect the 
author, nor conceive the means of its execution. They 
were content to imagine any thing possible, rather than 
admit the possibility of a supernatural appearance. 
But, though they had attempted these stratagems of 
self-delusion, Wynyard could not help expressing his 
soL Jtude with respect to the safety of the brother 
whose apparition he had either seen, or imagined him- 
self to have seen ; and the anxiety which he exhibited 
for letters from England, and his frequent mention of his 
fears for his brother's health, at length awakened the 
curiosity of his comrades, and eventually betrayed him 
into a declaration of the circumstances which he had, in 
vain, determined to conceal. The story of the silent 
and unbidden visitor was no sooner bruited abroad, 
than the destiny of Wynyard \s brother became an 
object of universal and painful interest to the officers of 
the regiment ; there were few who did not inquire for 
Wynyard* s letters, before they made any demand after 
their own, and the packets that arrived from England 
were welcomed with more than usual eagerness, for 
they brought not only remembrances from their friends- 
at home, but promised to afford the clue to the mystery 
which had happened among themselves. 

By the first ships no intelligence relating to the story 
could have been received, for they had all departed 



80 SIR JOHN SHERBROKE AND GEN. WYNYARD. 

from England previously to the appearance of the 
spirit. At length the long- wish ed-for vessel arrived ; 
all the officers had letters except Wynyard. Still the 
secret was unexplained. They examined the several 
newspapers, but they contained no mention of any death ; 
or of any other circumstance connected with his family 
that could account for the preternatural event. There 
was a solitary letter for Sherbroke still unopened. The 
officers had received their letters in the mess-room at the 
hour of supper. After Sherbroke had broken the seal 
of his last packet, and cast a glance on its contents, he 
beckoned his friend away from the company, and de- 
parted from the room. All were silent. The suspense 
of the interest was now at its climax ; the impatience 
for the return of Sherbroke was inexpressible. They 
doubted not but that letter had contained the long-ex- 
pected intelligence. After the interval of an hour Sher- 
broke joined them. No one dared be guilty of so great 
a rudeness as to inquire the nature of his correspondence ; 
but they waited in mute attention, expecting that he 
would himself touch upon the subject. His mind was 
manifestly fall of thoughts that pained, bewildered, and 
oppressed him. He drew near to the fire-place, and 
leaning his head on the mantle-piece, after a pause of 
some moments, said in a low voice, to the person who 
was nearest to him, " Wynyard's brother is no more I" 
The first line of Sherbroke's letter was, " Dear John, 
break to your friend Wynyard the death of his favourite 
brother."— He had died on the day, and at the very 
hour on which the friends had seen his spirit pass sq 
mysteriously through the apartment. 

It might have been imagined, that these events would 
have been sufficient to have impressed the mind of Sher- 
broke with the conviction of their truth ; but so strong 



SIR JOHN SHERBROitQ AND GEN. WYNYARD. SL 

was his prepossession against the existence, or even the 
possibility of any preternatural intercourse with the souls 
of the dead, that he still entertained a doubt of the 
report of his senses, supported as their testimony was, 
by the coincidence of vision and event. Some years 
after, on his return to England, he was walking with 
two gentlemen in Piccadilly, when, on the opposite side 
of the w^ay, he saw a person bearing the most striking, 
resemblance to the figure which had been disclosed to 
Wynyard and himself. His companions were acquainted 
with the story ; and he instantly directed their attention 
to the gentleman opposite, as the individual who had 
contrived to enter and depart from Wynyard's apart- 
ment without their being conscious of the means. Full 
of this impression, he immediately went over, and at 
once addressed the gentleman : he now fully expected 
to elucidate the mystery. He apologized for the inter- 
ruption, but excused it by relating the occurrence, 
which had induced him to the commission of this solecism 
in manners. The gentleman received him as a friend. 
He had never been out of the country ; but he was the 
twin brother of the youth whose spirit had been seen. 

This story is related with several variations. It is 
sometimes told as having happened at Gibraltar, at 
others in England, at others in America. There are 
also differences with respect to the conclusion. Some 
say that the gentleman whom Sir John Sherbroke 
afterwards met in London, and addressed as the person 
whom he had previously seen in so mysterious a 
manner, was not another brother of General Wynyard, 
but a gentleman who bore a strong resemblance to the 
family. But, however, the leading facts in every ac- 
count are the same, Sir John Sherbroke and General 
Wynyard, two gentlemen of veracity, were together 

e 3 



82 THOMAS GODDARB, Q& MARLBOROUGH. 

present at the spiritual appearance of the brother of 
General Wynyard ; the appearance took place at the 
moment of dissolution ; and the countenance, and form 
of the ghost's figure, were so distinctly impressed upon 
the memory of Sir John Sherbroke, — to whom the living 
man had been unknown, — that on accidentally meeting 
with his likeness, he perceived and acknowledged the 
resemblance. 

THOMAS GODDARD OF MARLBOROUGH, WILTS. 

The veracity and authenticity of Glanvil's " Saducis- 
mnus Triumphatus ; or full and plain Evidence con-* 
cerning Witches and Apparitions," is as well known as 
established. The work is now become treasurable, and 
is only to be bought at an advanced price. The third 
and last edition, dated from Bath, June 8, J 688, is 
dedicated to Charles, Duke of Richmond, and contains 
some highly curious matter, not to be found in the 
previous editions. The author enters into the histpry 
and theory of witchcraft, with the true spirit of enquiry 
and research, and altogether his work is considered as 
the best extant, both for the perspicuity of its theory, 
and the accredited character of its narratives. 

As a specimen of the latter, we transcribe the following 
interesting deposition of Thomas Gopdard, of Marl- 
borough, Wilts, weaver, made the 23d November, 1674. 
He saith, that on Monday, the 9th instant, as he was 
going to Ogborn, at a stile on the highway near Mr. 
Goddard's ground, about nine in the morning, He met 
the apparition of his father-in-law, one Edward Avon, 
of this town, glover, who died in May last, having on, 
to his appearance, the sam« clothes, hat, stockings, and 
shoes he usually wore when he was living, standing 
by and leaning over that stile. When he came 



THOMAS GODDARD, OF MARLBOROUGH. 83 

near, the Apparition spoke to him with an audible voice 
those words, " Are you afraid?" To which he answered, 
(< I am thinking on one who is dead and buried, 
whom you are like." To which the apparition replied 
with the like voice, il I am he that you were thinking; 
on, I am Edward Avon, your father-in-law, come near 
to me, I will do you no harm." To which Goddard 
answered, " I trust in him who hath bought my soul 
with his precious blood, you shall do me no harm.'' 
Then the apparition said, ■' How stand cases at home ?"" 
Goddard asked what cases ? Then it asked *f How are 
William and Mary, meaning, as he conceived, his son 
William Avon, a shoemaker here, and Mary his 
daughter, the said Goddard's wife." Then it said, 
** What ! Taylor is dead," meaning, as he thought, one 
Taylor of London, who married his daughter Sarah, 
which Taylor died the Michaelmas before. Then the 
apparition held out its hand, and in it, as Goddard 
conceived, twenty or thirty shillings in silver, and then 
spake with a loud voice, " take this money and send it 
to Sarah ; for I shut up my bowels of compassion towards 
her in the time of my life, and now here is something 
for her.*' And then said, " Mary (meaning his, the said 
Goddard's wife as he conceived) is troubled for me ; but 
tell her God hath showed mercy to me contrary to my 
deserts/' But the said Goddard answered, i£ In the 
the name of Jesus Christ I refuse all such money," Then 
the apparition said, "I perceive you are afraid, I will 
meet you some other time." And immediately to his 
appearance, it went up the lane, and he went over the 
same stile, but saw it no more that day. 

He saith, the next night, about seven o'clock, it 
and opened his shop-window, and stood in the 
I clothes, looked him in the face, but said nothing 



84 THOMAS GODDARD, OF MARLBOROUGH. 

to him. And the next night after it appeared to him 
again in the same shape, but he being in fear, ran inter 
his house, and saw it no more then. 

But be saith, that on Thursday, the 12th instant, as 
he came from Chilton, riding down the bill between the 
manor-bouse and Axford-farm -field, he saw something 
like a hare cross his way, at which his horse startled, 
and threw bim in the dirt. As soon as he could recover 
on his feet, the same apparition there met him again in 
the same habit, and standing about eight feet 
directly before him in the way, spoke again to him 
with a 'loud voice, ic Source (a word he commonly 
used when living) you have stayed long ■;" and then said 
to him, " Thomas, bid William Avon take the sword 
that he had of me, which is now in his house, and 
carry it to the wood as we go to Alton, to the upper 
end of the wood by the way side ; for with that sword 
I did wrong above thirty years ago, and he never pros- 
pered since he had that sword ; and bid William Avon 
give his sister Sarah twenty shillings of the money which 
he had of me. And do you talk with Edward Lawrence, 
for I borrowed twenty shillings of him several years ago 
and did say I had paid him, but I did not pay it him ; and 
I would desire you to pay him twenty shillings out of 
the money which you had from James Elliot at two 
payments." Which money the said Goddafd now saith 
was five pounds, which J ames Elliot, a baker, here owed 
the said Avon on bond, and which he, the said Goddard, 
had received from the said Elliot since Michaelmas, at 
two payments, viz : 35s. at one time, and 3Z. Ss. at 
another payment. And it farther said to him, " Tell 
Margaret (meaning his own wife as he conceived), that 
I would desire her to deliver up the little which I gave 
to little Sarah Taylor, to the child, or to any one she 



THOMAS GODDARD, OF MARLBOROUGH. 85 

will trust for it. But if she will not, speak to Edward 
Lawrence to persuade her. But if she will not then, 
tell her that I will see her very suddenly. And see that 
this be done w T ithin a twelvemonth and a day after my 
decease, and peace be with you. 1 ' It then went away 
over the rails into the wood, and he saw it no more at 
that time. And he saith, that he paid the twenty 
shillings to Edward Lawrence of this town, who being 
present now doth remember he lent the said Avon 
twenty shillings about twenty years ago, which none 
knew but himself and wife and Avon and his wife ; and 
was never paid it again before now by this Goddard. 

And this, said Goddard farther saith, that this very 
day by the Mayor's order, he with his brother-in-law, 
William Avon, went with the sword, and about nine 
o'clock in the morning they laid down the sword in the 
copse near the place the apparition had appointed 
Goddard to carry it, and then coming away thence 
Goddard looking back saw the same apparition again 
in the same habit as before. Whereupon be called to 
his brother-in-law and said, " Here is the Apparition of 
our father ;" who said, " I see nothing." Then Goddard 
fell on his knees, and said, M Lord open his eyes that 
he may see it/' But he replied, " Lord grant I may not 
see it, if it be thy blessed will," and then the apparition 
to Goddard's appearance, beckoned with his hand to him 
to come to it. And then Goddard said, " In the name of 
the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, what would you 
have me do ?" Then the apparition said to him, 
* Thomas, take up the sword, and follow me." To 
which he said, Ci Should both of us come, or but one of 
us ?" To which it answered, " Thomas, do you take 
up the sword." And so he took up the sword and 
followed the apparition about ten lugs (that is poles) 



86 THOMAS 60DDARD, OF MARLBOROUGH. 

farther into the copse, and then turning back, he stood 
still about a lug and a half from it, his brother-in-law 
staying behind at the place where they first laid down 
the sword. Then Goddard laying down the sword 
upon the ground, saw something stand by the appari- 
tion like a mastiff dog, of a brown colour. Then the 
apparition coming towards Goddard, he stepped back 
about two steps, and the apparition said to him? " I 
have a permission to you, and commission not to touch 
you ; and then it took up the sword, and went back to 
the place at which before it stood, with a mastiff dog 
by it as before, and pointed the top of the sword in the 
ground, and said, & In this place lies buried the body 
of him which I murdered in the year 1635, which is 
now rotten and turned to dust." Whereupon Goddard 
said, "I do adjure you in the name of the Father, JSon.- 
and Holy Ghost, wherefore did you commit this murder. }'' 
And it said, " I took money from the man, and he con- 
tended with me, and so I murdered him." Then 
Goddard asked him, who was confederate with him in 
the said murder? and it said " None but myself.' ' — 
Then Goddard said, " What would you have me do in 
this thing ?" And the Apparition said, " This is that 
the world may know that I murdered a man, and buried 
him in this place, in the year 1635." 

Then the Apparition laid down the sword on the 
bare ground, whereon nothing grew, but seemed to 
Goddard to be as a grave sunk in. The Apparition 
then rushing further into the copse vanished, and he 
saw it no more. Whereupon Goddard, and his hrother- 
in-law Avon, leaving the sword there, and coming away 
together, Avon told Goddard he heard his voice, and 
understood what he said, and heard other words dis- 
tinct from his, but could not understand a word of it, 



a mother's appearance to her son. 87 

nor saw any Apparition at all. Which he now also 
present affirmeth, and all which the said Goddard then 
attested under his hand, and affirmed, he will depose 
the same when he shall he thereto required. 

In the presence of Christ. Lypyatt, Mayor, Rolf Bayly, 
Town-Clerk, Joshua Sacheveral, Rector of St. Peter's, in 
Marlborough. 

Examined by me, 

WILL. BAYLY. 

Such are the detailed facts of this extraordinary case. 
Its authenticity affords us proof of a conscience quickened 
with all the horrors of human guilt, and the miseries 
of crime, which, although being concealed for a time, 
$ire almost universally revealed by circumstances as 
unexpected as unprepared for. 

A mother's appearance to her son while at sea. 

A woman, w T ho lived on Rhode Island, in Ame- 
rica, whilst on her death bed, and just before she 
expired, expressed a great desire to see her only son, 
who was then a mariner, navigating in the West 
India seas, and to deliver him a message. She in- 
formed the persons near her what she wanted to say 
to her son, and died immediately. About that instant 
she appeared to him, as he was standing at the helm, 
it being a bright moonlight night. She first appeared 
on the shrouds, and delivered her message ; and after- 
wards walked over some casks that lay on the deck, 
then descended the side regularly to* the water, where 
she seemed to float for a while, and at last sunk and 
wholly disappeared. The young man immediately 
recorded the time and day, and the substance of her 



88 JAMES SHERRING, OF LITTLE BURTOK. 

message, and found on his arrival at Rhode Island, that 
she died at the very juncture when she was seen by him ; 
and that the words she spoke to him, corresponded ex- 
actly with those she delivered to the persons around her; 

A young woman, who lived on the north side 
of Long Island, in the state of New York, with a 
magistrate, went on a visit about eighteen miles to 
the south side of the island; and while she was 
absent, she appeared to her master and mistress as 
they were in bed. The magistrate spoke to her, 
asked her if she got safe home, and she vanished im- 
mediately. She returned home soon afterwards, was 
taken ill of a fever, of which she died in a few days. 

Relation of James Sherring, taken concerning the matter 
at old Gast's-House, of Little Burton, June 23, 1677, 
as follows : — 

On June 23, 1677, the following circumstances oc- 
curred at the house of a man named Gast, at Little 
Burton, in Somersetshire. They are well attested, and 
are altogether too important to be passed over by the 
curious and inquisitive reader. 

The first night that I was there with Hugh Mellmore 
and Edward Smith, they heard as it were the washing 
in water over their heads. Then taking a candle and 
going up the stairs, there was a wet cloth thrown at 
them, but it fell on the stairs. They going up farther 
there was another thrown as before. And when they 
were come up into the chamber there stood a bowl of 
water, some of it sprinkled over, and the water looked 
white, as if there had been soap used in it. The bowl 
just before was in the kitchen, and could not be carried 
up but through the room where they were. The next 
thing that they heard the same night was a terrible noise 



JAMES SHERRING, OF LITTLE BURTON. ' 89 

as if it had been a clap of thunder, and shortly after they 
heard great scratching about the bedstead, and after 
that great knocking with a hammer against the bed's- 
head, so that the two maids that were in bed cried out 
for help. Then they ran up the stairs, and there lay 
the hammer on the bed, and on the bedVhead there 
were near a thousand prints of the hammer, which the 
violent strokes had made. The maids said, that they 
were scratched and pinched with a hand that was put 
into the bed, which had exceeding long nails. They 
said the hammer was locked up fast in the cupboard 
when they went to bed. This was that which was 
done the first night, with many other things of the 
like nature. 

The second night that James Sherring and Thomas 
Hillary were there, James Sherring sat down in the 
chimney to fill a pipe of tobacco; he made use of the 
firetongs to take up a coal to light his pipe, and by and 
by the tongs were drawn up the stairs, and after they 
were up in the chamber they were played withal (as 
many times men do), and then thrown down upon the 
bed. Although the tongs were so near him, he never 
perceived them to go away. The same night one 
of the maids left her shoes by the fire, and they 
were carried up into the chamber, and the old man's 
brought down and set in their places. The same night 
there was a knife carried up into the chamber, and it 
did scratch and scrape the bed's-head all the night, but 
when they went up into the chamber, the knife was 
thrown into the loft. As they were going up the stairs, 
there were many things thrown at them, which were 
just before in the low room, and when they went down 
the stairs, the old man's breeches were thrown down 



90 JAMES SHERRING, OF LITTLE BURTON. 

after them. These were the most remarkable things 
done that night, only there was continual knocking and 
pinching the maids, which was usually done every night. 

The third night, when James Sherring and Thomas 
Hillary were there, as soon as the people were gone to 
bed, their clothes were taken and thrown at the candle 
and put out, and immediately after they cried out with 
a very hideous cry and said, ' they should be all choaked 
if they were not presently helped/ Then they run up 
the stairs and there were abundance of feathers plucked 
out of the bolster that lay under their heads, and some 
thrust into their mouths, that they were almost choaked. 
The feathers were then thrown about the bed and 
room. They were plucked out of a hole no bigger 
than the top of one's little finger. Some time after they 
were vexed with a very hideous knocking at their heads 
as they lay on the bed. Then James Sherring and 
Thomas Hillary took the candle and went up the stairs 
and stood at the bed's feet, and the knocking continued. 
Then they saw a hand with an arm- wrist hold the 
hammer which kept on knocking against the bedstead. 
Then Jaraes Sherring going towards the bed's-head, the 
hand and hammer fell down behind the bolster, and 
could not be found ; for they turned up the bed-clothes . 
to seareh for the hammer. But as soon as they went 
down stairs the hammer was thrown out into the middle 
of the chamber. These were the most remarkable 
things that were done that night. 

The fourth and fifth nights there was but little done 
more than knocking and scratching, as was usually. 

The sixth and seventh nights there was nothing at 
all, but all was quiet as at other houses. These were 
all the nights that they were there. 



JAMES SHERRING, OF LITTLE BURTON. 91 

The circumstances that follow are what James Sher- 
ring heard the people of the house report. 

There was a saddle in the house of their Uncle 
Warren's, of Leigh (which it should seem they de- 
tained wrongfully from the right owner), that as it 
hung upon a pin in the entry would come off and 
come into the house, as they termed it, hop ahout the 
house from one place to another, and upon the table, 
and so to another, which stood on the other side of the 
house. Jane Gast and her kinswoman took this 
saddle and carried it to Leigh, and as they were going 
along in the broad common there would be sticks and 
stones thrown at them, which made them very much 
afraid, and going near together, their whittles w^hich 
were on their shoulders were knit together. They 
carried the saddle to the house which was old Warren's, 
and there left it and returned home very quiet. But 
being gone to bed at night, the saddle was brought 
back from Leigh (which is a mile and a half at least 
from old Cast's house), and thrown upon the bedw r here 
the maids lay. After that, the saddle was very trouble- 
some to them, until they broke it in small pieces and 
threw it out into the highway. 

There was a coat of the same party's, who was 
owner of the saddle, which bung on the door in the hall, 
and it came off from the place and flew into the fire and 
lay some considerable time before they could get it out. 
For it was as much as three of them could do to pluck 
it out of the tire, because of the ponderous weight that 
lay on it as they thought. Nevertheless there w T as no 
impression on it of the fire. 

One night there were two of this old Gast's grand- 
daughters in bed together, they were aged, one of them 
about twelve or thirteen years of age, and the other about 
sixteen or seventeen. They said they felt a hand in 



92 JAMES SHERRING, OP LITTLE BURTON. 

bed with them, which they bound up in the sheet, and 
took bedstaves and beat it until it was as soft as wool, 
then they took a stone which lay in the chamber, about 
a quarter of an hundred weight, and put on it, and 
were quiet all the night. In the morning, they found it 
as they left it. Then the eldest of the maids swore that 
she would burn the Devil, and fetched a furze faggot to 
burn it, but when she came again, the stone was thrown 
away, and the cloth was found wet. 

The following is the relation of Jane Winsor, of 
Long Burton, she being there three nights, taken the 
3d day of July, 1677. 

She heard or saw nothing as long as the candle did 
burn, but as soon as it was out, there was something 
which did seem to fall down by the bedside, and by and 
by it began to lay on the bed's-head with a staff, and 
did strike Jane Winsor on the head. She put forth her 
hand and caught it, but was not able to hold it fast 
She got out of the bed to light a candle, and there was 
a great stone thrown after her but it missed her. 
When the candle was lighted, they arose and went 
down to the fire. One of them went up to fetch the 
bed-clothes to make a bed by the fire, and there lay a 
heap of stones on the bed whereon they lay just before. 
As soon as the bed was made, and they had laid dow^n 
to take their rest, there was a scratching on the form 
that stood by them in an extreme manner, Then it 
came and heaved up the bolster whereon they laid 
their heads, and endeavoured to throw them out. At 
last it got hold of one end of the pillow, and set it on 
end, and there it stood for some considerable time ; at 
last falling down in its place, they fell fast asleep, and 
jio continued all that night. 



DAVID HUNTER, OF PORTMORE. 93 

The staff that was spoken of before, was Jane 
Winsor's, and she says, she left it below in the kitchen 
she says that which troubled, did endeavour to kill the 
people, if it had power. She put them to it, to know the 
reason why they were so troubled, and they said they 
knew nothing, unless it was about the business of old 
Warren. She was there three nights, and the trouble was 
much after the same manner, nothing more remarkable. 

GlanviL 
david hunter, Neatherd, at portmore, in Ireland, 1663. 

The following circumstantial narrative was given by 
the above witness to the Bishop of Downe and Dromore, 
in whose service Hunter lived. The facts were nar- 
rated by him, day by day, as they occurred, to the 
Bishop, and to Lady Conway, then on a visit at 
Portmore. 

One evening as David Hunter was carrying a log of 
wood into the dairy, there appeared to him an old woman, 
who much terrified him, for he knew her not; but 
the fright made him throw away his log of wood, and 
run into the house. The next night she appeared again 
to him, and he could not chuse but follow her all night, 
and thus almost every night for near three-quarters of a 
year, Whenever she came he went with her through 
the woods at a good rate : and the poor fellow looked 
as if he was bewitched and travelled off his legs, i\nd 
when in bed with his wife, if she appeared, he was 
compelled to rise and go. And because his wife could 
not hold him in his bed, she went too, and walked after 
him iiil day, though she saw nothing. But his little 
dog was so well acquainted with the apparition, that 
he would follow her as well as his master. 

But one day as David was going over a hedge into 



94 DAVID HUNTER, OP PORTMOM. 

the highway, she came just against him, and he cried 
out, " Lord bless me, would I was dead ; shall I never 
be delivered from this misery ?" At which, " And the 
Lord bless me too/' said she, " It was very happy you 
spoke first, for till then I had no power to speak, though 
I have followed you so long." " My name," said she, 

" is Margaret , I lived here before the war, and 

had one son by my husband ; when he died I married 
a soldier, by whom I had several children, which that 
former son maintained, else we must all have starved. 
He lives beyond the Ban- water ; pray go to him, and bid 
him dig under such a hearth, and there he shall find 
twenty-eight shillings. Let him pay what I owe in such a 
place and the rest to the charge unpaid at my funeral ; and 
go to my son that lives here, which I had by my latter 
husband, and tell him, that he lives a wicked and a 
dissolute life, and is very unnatural and ungrateful to 
his brother that maintained him, and if he does not 
mend his life, God will destroy him." 

David Hunter told her he never knew her: "No," 
said she, " I died seven years before you came 
into the country, but for all that, if he would do her 
message, she would never hurt him." But he deferred 
doing as the apparition bid him, and she appeared the 
night after as he lay in bed, and struck him on the 
shoulder very hard ; at which he cried out, and asked 
her if she did not promise she would not hurt him ? 
She said, that was if he did her message; if not, she 
would kill him. He told her he could not go now, 
as the waters were out. She said, she was content 
that he should stay till they were abated; but charged 
him afterwards not to fail her. So he did her errand, 
and afterwards she appeared, and gave him thanks. 
" For now," said she, " I shall be at rest, therefore pray 



STRANGE PRESAGES AT WOODSTOCK. 95 

lift me up from the ground, and T will trouble you no 
more. 1 ' David Hunter now lifted her up from the 
ground, and, he said, she felt just like a bag of feather* 
in his arms; so she disappeared, and he was never more 
troubled. 

STRANGE PRESAGES AT WOODSTOCK. 

In 1649, during the visit of the Commissioners of 
Woods and Forests to survey the manor-house, park, 
deer, woods, and other demesnes, belonging to the 
Manor of Woodstock, in Oxfordshire, the following cir- 
cumstances occurred. They are related with much 
accuracy and precision as to time and place in the 
Natural History of Oxfordshire, a work of great repu- 
tation ; and when the high character which topography 
maintains in English literature, is considered, this narra- 
tion will be received as interesting and well authenticated. 

The Commissioners, October 13, 1646, with their 
servants, being come to the manor-house, they took up 
their lodging in the king's own rooms, the bed-chamber, 
and withdraw ing-room : the former whereof they also 
made their kitchen, the council-hall their brewhouse, 
the chamber of presence their place of sitting to dispatch 
business, and a wood-house of the dining-room, where 
they laid the wood of that ancient standard in the 
high-park, known of all by the name of the King's Oak, 
which (that nothing might remain that had the name 
of king affixed to it) they digged up by the roots. 
October the 14th and 15th, they had little disturbance; 
but on the 16th, there came, as they thought, something 
into the bed-chamber, where two of the Commissioners 
and their servants lay, in the shape of a dog, which, 
going under their beds, did as it were, gnaw their bed- 
cords, but on the morrow, finding them whole, and a 



96 STRANGE PRESAGES AT WOODSTOCK. 

I 

quarter of beef, which lay on the ground untouched, 
they began to entertain other thoughts. 

October \ 7. — Something to their thinking, removed 
all the wood of the kings oak out of the dining-room 
into the presence chamber, and hurled the chairs and 
stools up and down that room. From whence it came 
into the two chambers where the Commissioners and 
their servants lay, and hoisted up their beds -feet so 
much higher than their "heads, that they thought they 
should have been turned over and over ; and then let 
them fall down with such a force that their bodies 
rebounded from the bed a good distance, and then shook 
the bedstead so violently, that themselves confessed 
their bodies were sore with it. October 18. — Something 
came into the bed-chamber and walked up and down, 
fetched the warming-pan out of the withdrawing-room, 
and made so much no;se, that they thought five bells 
could not have made more. And October 19, trenchers 
were thrown up and down the dining-room, and at them 
that lodged there, whereof one of them being shaken by 
the shoulder, and awakened, put forth his head to see 
what was the matter, but had trenchers thrown at it. 

October 20. — The curtains of the bed in the with- 
drawing-room, were drawn to and fro, and much shaken, 
and eight great pewter dishes, and three dozen of 
trenchers thrown about the bed-chamber again. This 
night they also thought whole armfuls of the wood of 
the king's oak thrown down in their chambers, but of 
that in the morning they found nothing had been moved, 

October 21. — The keeper of their ordinary and hi* 
bitch lay in one of the rooms with them, which night 
they were not disturbed at all. But October 22, 
though the bitch kenneled there again, to whom they 
ascribed their former night's rest, both they and th* 



STRANGE PRESAGES AT WOODSTOCK. 97 

bitch were in a pitiful condition, the bitch barking but 
once, and then with a whining fearful yelp. October 
23. — They had all their clothes plucked off them in 
the drawing-room, and the bricks fell out of the chim- 
ney into the room ; and the 24th, they thought in 
the dining-room, that all the wood of the King's oak 
had been brought thither and thrown down close by 
their bed-side ; which noise being heard by those of 
the drawing-room, one of them rose to see what was 
done, fearing indeed that his fellow Commissioners 
had been killed, but found no such matter ; whereupon 
returning to his bed again, he found two dozen of 
trenchers thrown into it, and handsomely covered with 
the bed-clothes. 

October 25. — The curtains of the bed in the draw- 
ing-room were pulled to and fro, and the bedstead 
shaken as before, and in the bed-chamber, glass flew 
about so thick (and yet not a pane of the chamber 
windows broken), that they thought it had rained 
money. Whereupon they lighted candles, but to their 
grief they found nothing but glass. October 29. — Some- 
thing walked in the drawing-room about an hour, 
and going to the window opened and shut it ; then 
going into the bed-chamber, it threw great stones for 
about half an hour, some of which lighted on the 
high bed, others on the truckle bed, to the number in 
all, of above fourscore. This night there was also a 
very great noise, as if forty pieces of ordnance had been 
shot off together. At two several firings it astonished 
all the neighbouring people, which is thought might have 
been heard a great way off. During these noises, which 
were heard in the two rooms together, both Commis- 
sioners and servants were struck with so great horror that 

F 



98 STRANGE PRESAGES AT WOODSTOCK. 

they cried out to one another for help ; whereof une of 
them recovering himself out of the strange agony he had 
been in, snatched up a sword, and had like to have killed 
one of his brethren coming out of his bed in his shirt, whom 
he took for the spirit that did the mischief. However, 
at length, they got all together, yet the noise continued 
so great and so terrible, and shook the walls so much, 
that they thought the whole manor would have fallen 
on their heads. At its departure it took all the glass 
and fled away. 

November 1. — Something, as they thought, walked 
up and down the drawing-room, and then made a 
noise in the dining-room. The stones that were left 
before, and laid up, in the withdrawing-room, were all 
fetched away this night, and a great deal of glass (not 
like the former) thrown about again. November 2. 
Came something into the drawing-room, treading, as 
they conceived, much like a bear, which at first only 
walked about a quarter of an hour ; at length it made 
a noise about the table, and threw the warming pan so 
violently, that it quite spoiled it. It also threw glass and 
great stones at them again, and the bones of horses; and 
all so violently, that the bedstead and walls were 
bruised by them. This night they set candles all about 
the rooms, and made fires up to the mantle-pieces of the 
chimneys, but all were put out, nobody knew how; the 
fire and billets that made it, being thrown up and down 
the rooms, the curtains torn with the rods from their 
beds, and the bed-posts pulled away, that the tester fell 
down upon them, and the feet of the bedstead were cloven 
in two. And upon the servants in the truckle bed that lay 
all this time sweating for fear, there was first a little water 
which made them begin to stir, but before they could get 



STRANGE PRESAGES AT WOODSTOCK. 99 

out, there came a whole bowl as it were of stinking ditch 
water down upon them, so green that it made their shirts 
and sheets of that colour. 

The same night the windows were all broken by throw- 
ing of stones, and there were most terrible noises in the 
three several places together, to the extraordinary 
surprize of all that lodged near them; nay the very 
coney-stealers that were abroad that night, were so 
affrighted with the dismal thundering, that in haste 
they left their ferret in the coney-burroughs behind 
them, beyond Rosomand's Well. Notwithstanding all 
this, one of them had the boldness to ask, in the name 
of God what it was ? What it would have ? and, 
what they had done, that they should be disturbed in 
this manner ? To this no answer was given, but the 
noise ceased for a while. At length it came again, 
and as all of them said, brought seven devils worse 
than itself. Whereupon one of them lighted a candle 
and set it between the two chambers in the door- way, 
on which another of them fixing his eyes, saw the simi- 
litude of a hoof, striking the candle and candlestick 
into the middle of the bed-chamber, and afterwards 
making three scrapes on the snuff to put it out. Upon 
this, the same person was so bold as to draw his sword, 
but he had scarce got it out, when there was another in- 
visible hand had hold of it too, and tugged with him 
for it, and prevailing struck him so violently with the 
pummel, that he was stunned with the blow. 

Then began grievous noises again, insomuch, that 
they calling to one another, got together, and went into 
the presence chamber, where they said prayers, and 
sung psalms; notwithstanding all which, the thundering 
noise still continued in other rooms. After this, No- 
vember 3d., they removed their lodgings over the gate, 
f 2 



100 DUCHESS OF MAZARINE 

and next day, being Sunday, went to Ewelin, where 
haw they escaped, the author of this narrative knows 
not : but returning on Monday, the devil (for that was 
the name they gave their nightly-guest) left them not 
unvisited, nor on the Tuesday following, which was the 
last day they sojourned at Woodstock. 

THE DUCHESS OF MAZARINE, AND MADAME DE 
BEAUCLAIR. 

The Duchess of Mazarine was one of the most cele- 
brated of the mistresses of the gay and licentious court 
of King Charles the Second. Waller distinguishes 
her as one of the favourites of that monarch, in the 
following lines — 

f When through the world fair Mazarine had run, 
Bright as her fellow-traveller the sun, 
Hither at last the Roman eagle flies, 
As the last triumph of her conquering eyes." 

Madame de Beauclair, was equally admired, and 
loved by his brother and successor James the Second; 
between these two ladies there existed an intimate 
friendship, such as is rarely found in persons bred up in 
courts ; particularly those of the same sex, and in the 
same circumstances. 

They were both women of excellent understandings, 
who had enjoyed all the luxuries of this world, and 
were arrived at an age, when they might be supposed to 
despise all its follies. 

After the burning of Whitehall, these two ladies were 
allotted very handsome apartments in the Stable-yard, 
St. James's, but the face of public affairs beiig 
then wholly changed, and a new set of courtiers, as 
well as rules of etiquette in vogue, they conversed 
almost only with each other. 



AND MADAME DE BEAUCLAIR. 101 

About this time the doctrine of the immateriality of 
the soul was warmly disputed in all circles, especially 
among those whose mere rank in life served as a specious 
pretext for their interference in such matters. The 
doctrine was too much discussed, not to be frequently 
a subject of conversation for these ladies; and the plau- 
sible arguments used by persons of high reputation for 
their learning, had such an effect on both, as to raise 
great doubts in them concerning the immortality of the 
soul, and the certainty of its existence after death. In 
one of these serious consultations on this topic, it was 
agreed between them, that whichever should be first 
called from this world, should return (if there were a 
possibility of doing so) and give the other an account 
in what manner she was disposed of. This promise, it 
seems, was often repeated, and the Duchess happening 
to fall sick, and her life being despaired of by all about 
her, Madame de Beauclair reminded her of her compact, 
to which her Grace replied, " you may depend upon my 
performance." These words passed between them 
about an hour before the death of the Duchess, and 
were spoken before several friends and attendants, who 
were in the room. 

Some years after the Duchess's decease, says the 
narrator of these facts, happening in a visit to Madame 
de Beauclair, to fall on the topic of futurity ; she ex- 
pressed her disbelief of it with great warmth; which 
surprising me, I offered some arguments, to prove the 
reasonableness of depending on a life to come : to which 
she answered, that not all that the whole world could 
say should ever persuade her to that opinion ; and then 
she related the compact made between herself and the 
Duchess of Mazarine. 



102 DUCHESS OF MAZARINE 

A few months afterwards, continued he, I happened to 
be at the house of a person of rank, with whom since the 
death of the Duchess of Mazarine, Madame de Beau- 
ciair had the greatest intimacy. We had just set down 
to cards about nine o'clock in the evening, when a ser- 
vant came hastily into the room, and acquainted the 
lady I was with, that Madame de Beauclair had sent 
to intreat she would come that moment to her, adding, 
that if she desired ever to see her more in this world,, 
she must not delay her visit. 

So odd a message might naturally surprise the person 
to whom it was delivered. She asked who brought it, 
and being told it was Madame de Beauclair's groom of 
the chambers, she ordered that he should come in, and 
demanded of him if his lady was in good health, or if 
he knew of any thing extraordinary that had happened 
to her, which should occasion this hasty summons. 
The groom answered, that he was entirely incapable of 
explanation, as he had not heard his lady complain of 
any indisposition. 

" Well then," said the lady, rather pettishly, " I desire 
you will make my excuse,, as I have really a cold, and 
am fearful the night-air may increase it ; but to-morrow 
I wjll not fail to wait on her very early in the morning/' 

On the departure of the groom, we began to form 
several conjectures on this message from Madame de 
Beauclair, but before we had time to agree on a reason- 
able conclusion, he returned again, with him Mrs* 
Ward, her waiting-woman, both being very much con- 
fused and almost breathless. 

" Oh, Madam," cried she, " my lady expresses great 
concern at your refusing this request, which she says will 
be her last; — she says that she is convinced of not 



AND MADAME T)B BEAUCLAIR. 103 

being in a condition to receive your visit to-morrow ; 
but as a token of her friendship she bequeaths you this 
little casket containing her watch, necklace, and other 
jewels, which she desires you will wear in remembrance 
of her." 

We immediately left the house, but as no mention 
was made of me in the message, on arriving at Madame 
de Reauclair's Infuse, I waited in a lower apartment, 
till she might give orders for my admittance. 

She was, however, no sooner informed I was there 
than she desired I would come up : — I did so, and 
found her sitting in an easy chair near her bed-side, and 
in my opinion, as well as that of all present, she seemed 
in perfect health. 

On our enquiring if she felt any inward disorder, 
which gave room for the melancholy apprehensions in 
her message, she replied in the negative; " yet/' said 
she, with a little sigh, " you will soon, very soon, behold 
me pass from this world into that eternity which I once 
doubted, but am now assured of. 5 ' 

As she spoke these last words she looked steadfastly 
in my face. 

I told her, I was heartily glad to find so great a 
change in her ladyship's sentiments, but that I hoped 
she had no reason to imagine the conviction would be 
fatal, which she only answered with a gloomy smile ; 
and a clergyman of her own persuasion, who had been 
sent for, coming in that moment, we quitted the room. 

In half an hour hence we were called in again, and 
she appeared to be more cheerful than before ; her eyes 
sparkled with uncommon vivacity, and she told us she 
should die with the more satisfaction, as she enjoyed in 
her last moments the presence of two persons the most 
agreeable to her in this world, and in the next would 



304 DUCHESS OF MAZARINE, &C. 

be sure of enjoying the society of one, whom in life 
she had dearly cherished. 

We now began to dissuade her from giving way to 
such conversation, when she interrupted us by saying, 
' 6 talk no more of that, — my -time is short, and I would 
not have the small space allowed me, to be wasted in 
vain delusion : know," continued she, "I have seen my 
dear Duchess of Mazarine ; I perceived not how she 
entered, but turning my eyes towards yonder corner of 
the room, I saw her stand in the same dress she was 
accustomed to wear when living ; T would fain have 
spoken, but had not the power of utterance : she took 
a circuit round the chamber, seeming rather to swim 
than walk : then halting beside that Indian chest, and 
looking on me with her usual sweetness, Beauclair, 
said she, between the hours of twelve and one this 
night you shall be with me. My surprise being a little 
abated, T began to ask some questions concerning that 
future world I was so soon to visit, but on the opening 
of my lips for that purpose, she vanished from my 
sight." 

The clock now struck twelve, and, as she discovered 
not the least symptom of any illness, we again endea- 
voured to remove all apprehensions of death ; but we 
had scarce began to speak, when on a sudden her 
countenance changed, and she cried out, " Oh ! I am 
sick at heart.!" — Mrs. Ward, who during this time stood 
leaning on her chair, applied some salts, but to no 
effect ; she grew still worse, and in about half an hour 
expired ; it being exactly the time the apparition had 
foretold. 

I have been thus particular in relating all the circum- 
stances of this affair, as well to prove that I could not be 
deceived in it, as to shew that Madame de Beauclair 



VTLLfERS, DUKE OP BUCKINGHAM. 105 

was neither melancholy nor superstitious. This lady 
was so far from any such apprehensions, or prepos- 
sessions, that, on the contrary, she looked upon 
them as ridiculous and absurd, and could have been 
convinced by nothing but the testimony of her d\vn 
eyes and ears. 

VILLIERS, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 

Most of our readers are familiar with the history of 
the above nobleman, and the tragical termination of his 
life, by John Felton. The following narrative, as 
connected with this event, will therefore be read with 
much interest. 

There w T ere many stories scattered abroad at this 
time of several prophecies and predictions of the Duke's 
untimely and violent death; amongst the rest there 
was one that was upon a good foundation of credit. 
There was an officer in the king's wardrobe in Wind- 
sor castle, named Parker, about the age of fifty. This 
man had, in his youth, been bred in a school in the 
parish where Sir George Villiers, the father of the 
Duke lived, and had been much cherished by Sir 
George, 'but whom he had never seen since his youth. 
About six months before the assassination of the Duke of 
Buckingham, at midnight, this man was in his bed 
at Windsor, and in good health, when there ap- 
peared to him on the side of his bed, a man of a 
venerable aspect, who drew the curtains of his bed, 
and fixing his eyes upon him, asked him if he knew 
him. 

The poor man, half dead with fear and apprehension, 

being asked the second time whether he remembered 

him, and having in that time called to his memory tho 

presence of Sir George Villiers, and the clothes he used 

f 3 



106 VILLIERS, DUKE OP BUCKINGHAM. 

to wear, in which, at that time, he seemed to be 
habited, he answered him, that he thought him to be 
that person. He replied, he was the same, and that 
he expected a service from him ; which was, that he 
should go to his son, the Duke of Buckingham, and 
tell him, if he did not somewhat ingratiate himself 
with the people, or at least abate the extreme malice 
which they had against him, he would be suffered to 
live but a short time. 

After this discourse he disappeared, and the poor man 
slept well till morning, when he believed all this to 
be a dream. 

The next night, the same person appeared to him 
again in the same place, and about the same time of 
the night, and asked him whether he had done as he 
required of him ; and perceiving he had not, severely 
reprehended him, and said, that if he did not perform 
his commands, he should enjoy no peace of mind; 
but should always be pursued by him; upon which 
ho promised him to obey. But the next morning, 
waking out of a good sleep, though he was exceedingly 
perplexed with the lively representation of all the particu- 
lars in his memory, he was still willing to persuade him- 
self he had only dreamed ; and considered that being the 
Duke's inferior he did not know how to gain admission 
to his presence. At length he resolved to do nothing 
in the matter. 

The same person appeared to him a third time, and 
bitterly reproached him for not performing his promise. 
The poor man had by this time gained courage to tell 
him, as in truth he had deferred the execution of his 
commands upon considering how difficult it would be 
for him to get any access to the Duke ; and if he 



VILLIERS, DUKE OP BUCKINGHAM. 107 

should obtain admission to him, he never should be 
able to persuade him that he was sent to warn him 
of approaching danger. 

The spectre replied, as he had done before, that he 
should never find rest till he had performed what he 
required, and therefore he had better dispatch it ; 
that the access to his son was known to be very ea<*y, 
and that few men waited long for him. 

In the morning, the poor man more confirmed by the 
last appearance, started for London, where the court 
was then held. He now called on Sir Ralph Freeman, 
one of the Masters of Requests, who had married a 
lady nearly allied to the Duke; and was well received 
by him. Through the interest of Sir Ralph, Parker 
obtained a promise of an interview with the Duke, who 
according to his usual condescension told him that he 
was the next day to hunt with the King; that his horses 
would attend him at Lambeth-bridge, where he should 
land by five o'clock in the morning, and if the man 
attended him there at that hour, he would speak 
with him. 

Sir Ralph presented Parker to the Duke at his 
landing, who received him courteously, and conversed 
with him nearly an hour. 

Parker told Sir Ralph in his return over the water, 
that when he mentioned certain particulars, the Duke's 
colour changed, and he swore that he could come at 
that knowledge only by the devil ; for that those par- 
ticulars were only known to himself and to another. 

The Duke joined in the chace, but was observed to 
ride all the morning with great pensiveness and in deep 
thought, without any delight in the exercise ; and before 
the morning was spent, he left the field, and alighted 
at his mother's lodgings in Whitehall, with whom he 
was shut up for two or three hours. When the Duke 



108 



i)H. DONNE. 



left her, his countenance appeared full of trouble, mixed 
with anger, and the Countess was found over- 
whelmed in tears, and in deep agony. 

When the news of the Duke's murder, which hap- 
pened within a few months afterwards, was brought to 
his mother, she seemed not surprised, but received it as 
if she had foreseen it ; nor did she afterwards express 
such a degree of sorrow as was expected from a 
mother, for the loss of so valuable a son. 

This story is related in Clarendon's History of the 
Rebellion, and is also told by Liliey in his Observa- 
tions on the Life and Death of King Charles the 
First. 

A considerable time before this happened, Sir Clement 
Throckmorton dreamed that an assassin would kill his 
Grace. He therefore took the first opportunity to 
advise him to wear a privy coat ; the Duke thanked 
him for his counsel very kindly, but gave him this 
answer, that he thought a coat of mail would signify 
little in a popular commotion/ and from any single 
person he apprehended no danger. — Relique Wotton. 

DR. AND MRS. DONNE. 

Doctor Donne and his wife resided for some time 
with Sir Robert Drury, at his house in Drury-lane. Sir 
Robert and the Doctor having agreed to accompany Lord 
Hay in an embassy to the Court of France, the Doctor 
left his wife, who was then pregnant, in Sir Robert's 
house. Two days after they had arrived at Paris, 
J)r. Donne happened to be left alone in the room, where 
they had dined ; but in about half an hour Sir Robert re- 
turned, when noticing the sad air of the Doctor, Sir Robert 
earnestly requested him to state what had befallen 
him in his short absence ? The Doctor replied <' Since 
yon left me I have seen a frightful vision, for I have 
seen my dear wife pass by me in the room, with her 



MR. THORNTON," OF FULHAM. 109 

hair hanging about her shoulders, and a dead child 
in her arms. 7 ' Sir Robert replied, " Surely, Sir, you 
have slept since I left you, and this is the result of 
some melancholy dream, which I would have you for- 
get, for you are now awake." Dr. Donne replied, " I 
cannot be more sure that I now live than that I have 
not slept, that I have seen my wife, and that she 
stopped short, looked me in the face, and then fled 
away." This he affirmed the next day with more 
confidence, which induced Sir Robert to think that 
there might be some truth in it. Sir Robert imme- 
diately dispatched a servant to Drury-house, to ascer- 
tain whether Mrs. Donne w T as alive or dead ; and if alive 
in what state of health. On the twelfth day the 
messenger returned, stating that he had seen Mrs. Donne, 
that she was very ill ; and that after a long and 
painful labour, she had been delivered of a dead child ; 
and upon examination, it proved that the delivery had 
been on the day Dr. Donne saw her apparition in his 
chamber. — Isaac Walton, 

MR. THORNTON, OF FULHAM. 

Mr. Thornton was one night extremely agitated 
by a dream. It appeared to him that he saw the gar- 
dener of his family in the act of murdering his cook- 
maid. He awoke, but endeavoured to dismiss this 
vision from his remembrance, and attempted to compose 
himself to sleep, His eyes were scarcely closed, when 
again the same dreadful picture presented itself to his 
imagination. Alarmed by the extraordinary, the distinct, 
and the repeated, intimation, he rapidly arose, and 
taking his night-lamp in his hand, departed from his 
room, and descended the stairs, with an intention of 
proceeding to the spot in which the circumstances of the- 



1 JO 



MR. THORNTON, OF FULHAM. 



dream had appeared to him as occurring. The hour 
was about four o'clock. The morning was clear, 
moonlight, and frosty. 

The reader will conceive what his surprise must have 
been, when, on entering the kitchen, on his way to the 
garden, by the nearest avenue, he perceived the cook 
dressed in white, putting on her bonnet and cloak, as if 
preparing for a journey. To his inquiries respecting her 
presence at such an unaccustomed hour, and in such 
extraordinary attire, she replied, that she was on the 
point of being married to the gardener, — that they were 
going to a neighbouring village for that purpose, — and 
that Mark was waiting for her, at the end of the garden, 
with a horse and tax-cart to convey her to church. Mr. 
Thornton told her, that he of course could have no ob- 
jection to their marriage, though he remonstrated against 
the secrecy of the proceeding; he desired her to wait a 
few moments till his return, as he was desirous of 
speaking to Mark previously to their setting off. Her 
master did not delay a moment in hastening to the 
garden: his mind much misdoubted the good intentions 
of the paramour, and he was not a little struck with the 
coincidence of his dream and the preparations which he 
witnessed. He first went to the bottom of the garden 
— to the spot mentioned by the maidservant, as the 
place in which Mark was waiting for her coming. — All 
was still. There was no Mark ; no horse ; no cjiaise. 
He then proceeded to the place marked out to him by 
the vision. Here he was destined to behold an object 
of a very doubtful character ; working with an inde- 
fatigable and hurried hand, and with his back turned 
towards him, Mr. Thornton perceived a man digging a 
pit. As he stood at his labour in the pit, it appeared to 
be about three feet and a half deep — it was about as 



DR. SCOTT AXD THE TITLE-DEED. Ill 

many in width, and about six feet in length ; it had all 
the character of a grave. Mr. Thornton approached 
silently, and laid his hand with a sudden and violent 
grasp on the man's shoulder. Mark turned his eyes 
upon his master, shuddered and fainted. — Were the in- 
dications of that dream the suggestions of a lying spirit ? 

DR. SCOTT AND THE TITLE-DEED. 

One evening Dr. Scott was seated by the fire read- 
ing at his house, in Broad-street, when accidentally 
raising his head, he saw in an elbow chair, at the oppo- 
site side of the fire-place or chimney, a grave gentleman 
in a black velvet gown, a long wig, looking with a 
pleasing countenance towards the doctor, as if about to 
speak to him. 

The doctor was much perturbed. According to his 
narrative of the fact, the spectre, it seems, spoke first, 
and desired the doctor not to be alarmed, that he came 
to him upon a matter of great importance to an injured 
family, which was in great danger of being ruined; and 
though he (the doctor) was a stranger to the family, 
yet knowing him to be a man of integrity, he had 
chosen him to do this act of charity and justice. 

The doctor was not at first composed enough to enter 
into the business with due attention, but seemed rather 
inclined to get out of the room if he could, and once or 
twice made an attempt to knock for some of the fa- 
mily to come up. The doctor having at length reco- 
vered himself, said, " In the name of God, what art 
thou ?" x\fter much importunity on the part of the 
doctor, the apparition began his story thus : — 

" I lived in the county of Somerset, where I left a 
very good estate, which my grandson enjoys at this 



112 DR. SCOTT AND THE TITLE-DEED. 

time. But he is sued for the possession by my two 
nephews, the sons of my younger brother. 

\_Here he gave his own name, the name of his younger 
brother, and the names of his two nephews."] 

The doctor then asked him how long the grandson 
had been in possession of the estate ; which he told him 
was seven years, intimating that he had been so long 
dead. 

He then went on to tell him, that his nephews 
would be too strong for his grandson in the suit, and 
would deprive him of the mansion-house and estate ; so 
that he would be in danger of being entirely ruined, and 
his family reduced. 

The doctor then said, " And what am I able to do in 
it, if the law be against him ?" 

* Why," said the spectre, (i it is not that the nephews 
have any right; but the grand deed of settlement, being 
the conveyance of the inheritance, is lost : and for want 
of that deed they will not be able to make out their 
title to the estate." 

(C Well," said the doctor, " and still what can I do in 
the case ?" 

" Why," said the spectre, "> if you will go down to my 
grandson's house, and take some persons with you whom 
you can trust, I will give you such instructions, that 
you shall find out the deed of settlement, which lies 
concealed in a place where I put it, and where you 
shall direct my grandson to take it out in your presence. 5 ' 
i( But why then can you not direct your grandson 
himself to do this ?" said the doctor. 

"Ask me not about that," said the spectre, " there are 
divers reasons which you may know hereafter, I can 
depend upon your honesty in it, in the meantime, and 



DR. SCOTT AND THE TITLE-DEED. 113 

you may so dispose of matters that you shall have your 
expences paid you, and be handsomely rewarded for 
your trouble.' ' 

Having obtained a promise from Dr. Scott, the spectre 
told him he might apprize his grandson that he had 
formerly conversed with his grandfather, and ask to see 
the house ; and that in a certain upper room, or loft, he 
would see a quantity of old lumber, coffers, chests, &c. 
which had been thrown aside, to make room for more 
fashionable furniture. 

That, ia a certain corner, he should find an old chest, 
with a broken lock upon it, and a key in it, which could 
neither be turned in the lock, nor pulled out. In this 
chest lay the grand deed or charter of the estate, which 
conveyed the inheritance, and without which the family 
might be ejected. The doctor having promised to dis- 
patch this important commission, the spectre disappeared. 

After a lapse * of some days, and within the time 
limited by the proposal of the spectre, the doctor 
went into Somersetshire, and, Jiavinsc found the house 
alluded to, he was very courteously invited in. They 
now entered upon friendly discourse, and the doctor pre- 
tended to have heard much of the family, and of his 
grandfather, from whom, he said, he perceived the estate 
descended to its present occupier. 

" Aye," said the gentleman, shaking his head, " my 
father died young, and my grandfather has left things so 
confused, that, for want of one principal writing, which 
is not yet come to hand, I have met with great trouble 
from two cousins, my grandfather's brother's children, 
who have put me to very great expense about it." 

" But I hope you have got over it, sir?" said the 
doctor. 

11 Xo," said the gentleman ; H . to be candid with you, 



114 DR. SCOTT AND THE TITLE-DEED. 

we shall never get quite over it, unless we can find this 
old deed : which, however, I hope we shall find, for I 
intend to make a general search after it." 

u I wish with all my heart you may find it, sir," 
said the doctor. 

H I do not doubt but we shall ; I had a strange dream 
about it last night," said the gentleman. 

" A dream about the writing !" said the doctor; u I 
hope it was that you should find it, then." 

" I dreamed," said the other, u that a strange gentle- 
man came to me, and assisted me in searching for it. I 
do not know but that you are the man." 

" I should be very glad to be the man," said the 
doctor. 

" Nay," replied the gentleman, a you may be the 
man to help me to look after it." 

" ;< Aye, sir," said the doctor, " I may help you to 
look after it, indeed, and I will do that with all my 
heart ; but I would much rather be the man that should 
help you to find it : pray when do you intend to search ?" 

u To-morrow," said the gentleman, M I have ap- 
pointed to search for it." 

" But/' said the doctor, u in what manner do you 
intend to search ?" 

u Why," replied the gentleman, " it is our opinion 
that my grandfather was so very much concerned in 
preserving this writing, and had so much jealousy as to 
its safety, that he hid it in a secret place ; and I am re- 
solved to pull half the house down but I will find it, if it 
is above ground." 

" Truly," said the doctor, " he may have hid it, so 
that you may pull the whole house down before you 
find it. I have known such things utterly lost by the 
very care taken to preserve them." 



DR. SCOTT AND THE TITLE-DEED. 115 

;< If it was made of something the fire would not 
destroy," said the gentleman, " I would burn the house 
down, but I would find it." 

w I suppose you have searched all the old gentleman's 
chests, trunks, and coffers over and over," said the 
doctor. 

u Aye," said the gentleman, ie and turned them all 
inside outward, and there they lay in a heap up in a 
loft, or garret, with nothing in them ; nay, we knocked 
three or four of them in pieces to search for private 
drawers, and then I burnt them for anger, though they 
were fine old cypress chests that cost money enough 
when they were in fashion." 

" I am sorry you burnt them," said the doctor. 
" Nay, said the gentleman," I did not burn a scrap 
of them till they were all split to pieces, and it was not 
possible there could be any thing in them." 

This made the doctor a little easy, for he began to be 
surprised when he told him he had split some of them 
and burnt them. 

a Well," said the doctor, " if I cannot do you any 
service in your search, T will come to see you again to- 
morrow, and wait upon you during it with my best good 
wishes." 

" Nay," says the gentleman, " I do not desigu to 
part with you, since you are so kind as to offer me 
your assistance ; you shall stay all night, then, and be 
at the commencement of the search." 

The doctor had now gained his point so far as to 
make an intimacy with the family ; and, after much 
intreaty, he consented to sleep there. 

A little before dark, the gentleman asked him to take 
a walk in the park ; but he declined ; M I would ra- 
ther, sir," said he, smiling, ".that you shew me this fine old 



116 DR. SCOTT AND THE TITLE-DEED. 

mansion house, that is to be demolished to-morrow ; 
methinks I would fain see the house once before you 
pull it down." 

" With all my heart/' said the gentleman. He 
took him immediately up stairs, shewed him the best 
apartments, and his fine furniture and pictures; and 
coming to the head of the staircase, offered to descend. 

" But, sir," said the doctor, " shall we not go 
higher i" 

'* There is nothing there," said he, " but garrets and 
old lofts full of rubbish, and a place leading to the 
turret, and the clock-house." 

" O, let me see it all, now we are here," said the 
doctor, *S I love to see the old lofty towers and turrets, 
and the magnificence of our ancestors, though they are 
out of fashion now; pray let me see them." 

After they had rambled over tbe mansion, they passed 
by a great lumber room, the door of which stood open. 

" And what place is this r" said the doctor. 

Ci O ! that is the room," said the gentleman, where 
all the rubbish, the chests, coffers, and trunks lie ; see 
how they are piled one upon another almost to the 
ceiling." 

Upon this the doctor began to look around him. He 
had not been in the room two minutes before he found 
every thing precisely as the spectre in London had de- 
scribed; he went directly to the pile he had been told 
of, and fixed his eye upon the very chest with the old 
rusty lock upon it, which would neither turn round nor 
come out. 

" On my word, sir," said the doctor, " you have 
taken pains enough, if you have searched all these 
drawers, chests, and coffers, and every thing that may 
have been in them." 



DR. SCOTT AND THE TITLE-DEED* 117 

" Indeed, sir," said the gentleman, " I have examined 
them myself, and looked over all the musty writings one 
by one; and they have all passed through my hand and 
under my eye." 

" Well, sir," said the doctor, " will you gratify my 
curiosity by opening and emptying this small chest or 
coffer ?" 

The gentleman looking at the chest, said, smiling, " I 
remember opening it; and tunning to his servant, he 
said, " William, do you not remember that chest ?" 
" Yes, sir," replied the servant, " I remember you were 
so tired, that you sat down upon the chest when every 
thing was out of it ; that you shut the lid, and sat down, 
and sent me to my lady to bring you a dram of citron ; 
and that you said you were ready to faint." 

" Well, sir," said the doctor, " it is only a whim of 
mine, and probably it may contain nothing." 

" You shall see it turned upside down before your 
face, as well as the rest." 

Immediately the gentleman caused the coffer to be 
dragged out and opened. When the papers were all 
out, the doctor turning round, as if looking among 
them, but taking little or no notice of the chest, stooped 
down, and as if supporting himself with his cane, struck 
the same into the chest, but snatched it out again hastily, 
as if it had been a mistake, and turning to the chest, 
he shut the lid, and seated himself upon it. Having 
dismissed the servant, " Now, sir," said he, M I have 
found your writing ; I have found your grand deed of 
settlement ; and I will lay you a hundred guineas I have 
it in this coffer." 

The gentleman took up the lid again, handled the 
chest, looked over every part of it ; but could see 
nothing; he was confounded and amazed! "What 



118 DOROTHY DINGLEY. 

do you mean ?" said he to the doctor, " here is nothing 
but an empty coffer." 

" Upon my word/' said the doctor, " I am no ma- 
gician, but I tell you again the writing is in this 
coffer." 

The gentleman knocked and called for his servant 
with the hammer, but the doctor still sat composed 
upon the lid of the coffer. 

At length the man came with a hammer and chisel, 
and the doctor set to work upon the chest, knocking 
upon the flat of the bottom : " hark !" says he, " don t 
you hear it, sir ? don't you hear it plainly ?" 

" Hear what ?" said the gentleman ; " I do not un- 
derstand you." 

" Why the chest has a double bottom, Sir, a false 
bottom," said the doctor, " don't you hear it sound 

hollow r 

In a word, they immediately split the inner bottom 
open, and there found the parchment spread abroad 
flat on the whole breadth of the bottom of the trunk. 

It is impossible to describe the joy and surprise of the 
gentleman, and of the whole family; and the former 
sent for his lady, and two of his daughters, into the 
garret among the rubbish, lo see the place and manner 
in which the writing was found. 

DOROTHY DINGLEY, AT LAUNCESTON, IN CORNWALL, 

Attested by the Rev. Mr. Ruddle, minister of that town. 

In the beginning of the year 1665, a disease hap* 
pened in this town, and some of my scholars died of 
it. Among others who fell victims to its malignity, 
was John Elliott, the eldest son of Edward Elliott, 
of Treberse, Esq. a stripling about sixteen years of age, 
but of uncommon abilities. At his particular request 






DOROTHY DINGLEY. 119 

I preached at the funeral, which happened on the 20th 
day of June, 1665. In my discourse I spoke some 
words in commendation of the young gentleman. An 
old gentleman, who was then in the church, was much 
affected with the discourse, and was often heard to re- 
peat the same evening, a line which I quoted from 
Virgil : 

Et puer ipse contrari dignus. 

The cause of this old gentleman's -concern, was the 
application of my observations to his own son, who 
being about the same age, and but a few months 
younger than Mr. Elliott, was now by a strange 
accident quite lost as to his parents' hopes. 

The funeral ceremony being over, on leaving the 
church, I was courteously accosted by this old gentle- 
man ; and with unusual importunity, almost forced 
against my will to his house that night ; nor could I 
have even declined from his kindness, had not Mr. 
Elliott interposed. I excused myself for the present, 
but was constrained to promise to wait upon him at his 
own house the Monday following. This then seemed 
satisfactory, but before Monday I received a message 
requesting that if possible I would be there on the 
Sunday. This second attempt I resisted, by answering 
that it was inconvenient. The gentleman sent me 
another letter on the Saturday enjoining me by no 
means to fail coming the Monday. I was indeed startled 
at so much eagerness, and began to suspect that there 
must be some design in this excess of courtesy. 

On the Monday I paid my promised devoir, and met 
with a reception as free, as the invitation was importu- 
nate. There also I met a neighbouring minister, who 
pretended to call in accidentally, but by the sequel I 
supposed it otherwise. After dinner this brother of the 



120 DOROTHY DINGLEY. 

cloth undertook to show me the gardens, where, as we 
were walking, he intimated to me the main object of 
this treat. 

First he apprised me of the infelicity of the family 
in general, and then instanced in the youngest son. 
He related what a hopeful youth he lately was, and 
how melancholy and sottish he was now grown. Next he 
deeply lamented that his ill-humour should so incredibly 
subdue his reason. " The poor boy," said he, " believes 
himself to be haunted with ghosts, and is confident 
that he meets with an evil spirit in a certain field about 
half a mile from this place, as often as he goes that way 
to school." In the midst of our discourse, the old gen- 
tleman and his lady came up to us. Upon their ap- 
proach, and pointing to the arbour, the clergyman 
resumed the narrative, and the parents of the youth 
confirmed what he said. In fine, they all desired my 
opinion and advice on the affair. 

I replied, that what the youth had reported to them, 
was strange, yet not incredible, and that I knew not 
then what to think or say on the subject ; but if the 
lad would explain himself to me, I hoped to give them 
a better account of my opinion the next day. 

The youth was called immediately, and I soon en- 
tered into a close conference with him. At first I was 
very cautious not to displease him, but endeavoured to 
ingratiate myself with him. But we had scarce passed 
the first salutation and begun to speak of the business, 
before I found him very ^communicative. He asserted 
that he was constantly disturbed by the appearance of 
a woman in an adjacent field, called Higher Brown 
Quartils. He next told me in a flood of tears, that 
his friends were so unkind and unjust to him, as neither 
to believe nor pity him ; and that if any man would go 



DOROTHY DINGLEY. 121 

with him to the place he might be convinced that his 
assertion was true. 

This woman who appears to me, said he, lived 
neighbour to my father, and died about eight years 
since ; her name was Dorothy Dingley; he then stated her 
stature, age, and complexion : that she never spoke to 
him, but passed by hastily, and always left him the 
foot-path, and that she commonly met him twice or 
three times in the breadth of the field. 

Two months had elapsed before I took any further no- 
tice of it, and though the face was in my memory, yet 
I could not recal the name ; but I concluded that it was 
some woman who lived in the neighbourhood, and fre- 
quently passed that way. Nor did I imagine otherwise, 
before she met me constantly morning and evening, 
and always in the same field, and sometimes twice or 
thrice in the breadth of it. 

The first time I noticed her, was about a year since ; 
and when I began to suspect and believe it to be a 
ghost, I had courage enough not to be afraid. I often 
spoke to it, but never had a word in answer. I then 
changed my way and went to school the under horse 
road, and then she always met me in the narrow lane, 
between the quarry park and the nursery-ground. 

At length I began to be terrified at it, and prayed 
continually, that God would either free me from it, or 
let me know the meaning of it. Night and day, 
sleeping and waking, the shape was ever running in my 
mind ; and I often repeated these places in scripture. 
Job. vii. 14. " Thou scarest me with dreams, and terri- 
fiest me through visions ; "and Deut.xxviii.67. " In the 
morning thou shalt say, would God it were evening, 
and at evening thou shalt say, would God it were 
morning, for the fear of thine heart, wherewith thou shalt 






122 DOROTHY DINGLEY. 

fear, and for the sight of thine eyes which thou shalt 
see." 

I was much pleased with the J ad's ingenuity, in the 
application of these pertinent texts of scripture to his 
condition, and desired him to proceed, which he did as 
follows : — 

By degrees I grew very pensive, insomuch that I 
was noticed by all our family ; being questioned closely 
on the subject, I told my brother William of it ; and 
he privately acquainted my father and mother. 

They however laughed at me, and enjoined me to at- 
tend to my school, and keep such fancies out of niyliead. 

I accordingly went to school often, but always met 
the woman in the way. 

Our conference ended in my offering to accompany 
him to the field, which proposal he received with extasy, 
and we accordingly went. 

The gentleman, his wife, and Mr. Williams, were 
impatient to know the event, insomuch that they came 
out of the parlour into the hall to meet us ; and seeing 
the lad look cheerfully, the first compliment from the 
old man was, " Come Mr. Ruddle, you have talked 
with Sam, I hope now he will have more wit ; an idle 
boy, an idle boy!" At these words the lad ran up 
stairs to his chamber without replying, and I soon 
stopped the curiosity of the three expectants, by telling 
them I had promised silence, and was resolved to be as 
good as my word, but that they should soon know all. 

The next morning, before five o* clock, the lad was 
in my chamber; when I arose and went with him. 
The field he led me to was to be twenty acres, in an 
open country, and about three furlongs from any house. 
We had not proceeded above a third part over the field, 
before the spectre, in the shape of a woman, with all 



DOROTHY DINGLEY. 123 

the circumstances he had described her to me in the 
orchard the day before, met us and passed by. I was 
somewhat surprised at it ; and though I had taken firm 
resolution to speak to it, yet I had not the power, nor 
indeed durst I look back. We walked to the end of 
the field, and returned, but the spectre did not then meet ^ 
us above once. On our return home, the lady 
waited to speak with me ; I told her that my opinion 
was, that her son's complaint was not to be slighted, 
nor altogether discredited, I cautioned her moreover, 
that the thing might not take wind, lest the whole 
country should ring, with what was as yet uncertain. 

On the morning of the 27th day of July. 1665, I 
went to the haunted field alone, and walked the breadth 
of it without any encounter. I returned and took the 
other walk, and then the spectre appeared to me at 
about the same place I saw it before when the young 
gentleman was with me; in my idea it moved swifter 
than the time before, and was about ten feet distant 
from me on my right hand. 

On the evening of this day, the parents, the son, 
and myself, being in the chamber where I lay ; I pro- 
posed to them our going altogether to the place next 
morning, and all resolved upon it. In the morning, 
lest we should alarm the servants, they went under the 
pretence of seeing a field of wheat, and I took my 
horse, and fetched a compass another way, and .niet at 
the stile we had appointed. 

Thence we all four walked leisurely into the Quartils, 
and had passed above half the field before the spectre 
made its appearance. It then came over the stile just 
before us, and moved with such swiftness, that by the 
time we had gone six or seven steps it had passed by. I 
immediately turned my head and ran after it, with the 
g2 



124 DOROTHY DINGLEY. 

young man by my side ; we saw it pass over the stile at 
which we entered, but no farther; I stepped upon the 
hedge at one place and he at another, but could discern 
nothing, whereas I dare aver, that the swiftest horse in 
England could not have conveyed himself out of sight 
in that short space of time. Two things I observed in 
this day's appearance : — 

1. That a spaniel dog who followed the company 
unregarded, barked and ran away, as the spectre 
passed by ; whence it is easy to conclude that it was 
not our fear or fancy which made the apparition. 

2. That the motion of the spectre was not gradatim, 
or by steps, and moving of the feet ; but a kind of 
sliding as children upon the ice, or a boat down a swift 
river, which punctually answers the descriptions the 
ancients gave of the motion of their lemurs. 

This ocular evidence convinced, but strangely 
tightened the old gentleman and his wife ; who knew 
Dorothy Dingley in her life time, were at her funeral, 
and plainly saw her features in this present apparition. I 
was resolved to proceed, and use such means as learned men 
have successfully practised, in these uncommon cases. 

The next morning being Thursday, I went out very 
early by myself, and walked for about an hour's space 
in meditation and prayer in the fields adjoining the 
Quartils. Soon after five I stepped over the stile, into 
the disturbed field, and. had not gone above thirty or 
forty paces before the spectre appeared at the farther 
stile. I spoke to it with a loud voice, whereupon it 
approached but slowly, and when I came near, it moved 
not. I spoke again, and it answered in a voice neither 
very audible nor intelligible. I was not in the least 
terrified, and therefore persisted, until it spoke again, 
and satisfied me. 



DOROTHY DINGLEY. 125 

In the same evening an hour after sun-set, it met me 
again near the same place, and after a few words on 
each side it quietly vanished, and neither appeared 
since, nor ever will more, to any man's disturbance. 
The conversation in the morning lasted about a quarter 
of an hour. 

These things are true, and I know them to be so 
with as much certainty as eyes and ears can give me ; 
and until I can be persuaded that my senses deceive me 
about their proper object ; and by that persuasion de- 
prive myself of the strongest inducement to believe the 
Christian religion, I must and will assert, that these 
things in this paper are true. I know full well with 
what difficulty relations of so uncommon a nature and 
practice obtain belief. This incredulity may be attri- 
buted, 

First. To the infinite abuses of the people, and im- 
positions upon their faith by cunning monks and friars, 
<&c, in the days of darkness and popery. For they 
made apparitions as often as they pleased, and got 
both money and credit by quieting the Terticulamenti 
Vulgi, which their own artifice had raised. 

Secondly. To the prevailing of Somatism and Hob- 
bean principles in these times ; which is a revival of the 
doctrine of the Sadduces, and as it denies the nature, 
so cannot consist with the apparitions of spirits, of 
which see, Leviathan p. 1, c. 12. 

Thirdly. To the ignorance of men in our age, in this 
peculiar and mysterious part of philosophy and religion, 
namely, the communication between spirits and men. Not 
one scholar of ten thousand (though otherwise of excellent 
learning) knows any thing of it, or the way how to ma- 
nage it This ignorance breeds fear, and abhorrence of 



126 MISS PRINGLE. 

that, which otherwise might be of incomparable benefit 
to mankind. 

Such is the narrative of the Rev. Mr. Ruddle, a cler- 
gyman of some note at Launceston, in Cornwall. It 
wants neither name, date, nor place, but every particu- 
lar seems to be detailed with the utmost precision and 
fidelity. 

MISS PRINGLE. 

One morning in the summer of 1745, Mrs. Jane 
Lowe, house-keeper to Mr. Pringle, of Clifton Park y 
in the south of Scotland, beheld the apparition of a 
lady walking in the avenue, on the margin of a rivulet, 
which runs into Kale water. The form resembled a 
daughter of her master, who had long been absent from 
the family, at the distance of above a hundred miles 
south of Paris. As Mrs. Lowe walked down the 
avenue and approached the rivulet, she grew more arid 
more certain of the similitude of the phantom to the 
idea in her mind of the Miss Pringle, and seeing her 
master in an enclosure adjoining, she communicated to 
him what she had just seen. Mr. Pringle laughed, and 
said, " you simple woman, that lady is Miss Chattow 
of Morebattle." However, Mrs. Lowe prevailed 
upon him to accompany her to the place ; which they 
had nearly reached, when the apparition sprung into 
the water and instantly disappeared. 

Mr. Pringle and Mrs. Lowe, on returning to the 
hall, apprized the family of the vision, and for their 
pains were heartily laughed at. The Rev. Mr. Turn- 
bull, minister of Linton, happened to breakfast that 
morning with Mr. Pringle, his lady, and two young 
daughters, who joined in the laugh. About three months. 



THE KONIGSBERG PROFESSOR. 127 

afterwards, the same reverend gentleman honoured the 
family with his company ; when standing at a window 
in the lower room, he observed a poor, ragged, lame, lean 
man, slowly approaching the house. " Here comes ano- 
her apparition," cried Mr. Turnbull, with a kind of con- 
temptuous smile. This drew the immediate attention 
of all present, and Mr. Pringle quickly recognized the 
person to be his second son, whom he had not seen be- 
fore for above ten years. 

On his arrival, he soon convinced them he was not an 
apparition, declaring that he had narrowly escaped with 
his life from Tunis, in the vicinity of which he had 
been a slave to the Algerines seven years, but had hap- 
pily been ransomed at the critical moment when he 
was ordered to be put to death for mutiny. He added, 
that on his return home through France, he called at 
the place where he had heard that his sister resided, 
and to his unspeakable grief found that she died on the 
25th of May, the same summer, about five o'clock in 
the morning, which he recollected to have been the pre- 
cise time that he was saved from the jaws of death, and 
when he thought he beheld his sister. Mrs. Lowe, 
who was present in the room, on hearing his declara- 
tion, broke forth into an acclamation, affirming, that 
the day alluded to was that on which she had shewn 
Mr. Pringle the apparition ; and this was confirmed by 
the reverend divine, in whose study this narrative was 
found after his death. 

THE KONIGSBERG PROFESSOR. 

u I AM not so decidedly sceptical on the possibility 
of supernatural appearance/' said Count Falkesheini 
to Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, " as to treat them with ridi- 
cule, because they may appear to be unphilosophical 



128 THE KOMGSBERG PROFESSOR. 

I received my education in the university of Konigsberg, 
where I had the advantage of attending lectures in 
ethics and moral philosophy, delivered by a professor 
who was esteemed a very superior man in those branches 
of science. He had, nevertheless, though an ecclesi- 
astic, the reputation of being tinctured with incredulity 
on various points connected with revealed religion. 
When, therefore, it became necessary for him in the 
course of his lectures to treat on the nature of spirit as 
detached from matter, to discuss the immortality of the 
soul, and to enter on the doctrine of a future state, I 
listened with more than ordinary attention to his opi- 
nions. In speaking of all these mysterious subjects, 
there appeared to me to be so visible an embarrassment, 
both in his language and in his expressions, that I felt 
the strongest curiosity to question him further respecting 
them* Finding myself alone with him soon afterwards, 
I ventured to state to him my remarks on his deport- 
ment, and entreated him to tell me if they were well 
founded or only imaginary suggestions. 

" The hesitation which you noticed," answered he,. 
" resulted from the conflict that takes place within me, 
when I am attempting to convey my ideas on a subject 
where my understanding is at variance with the testi- 
mony of my senses. I am equally, from reason and 
reflection, disposed to consider with incredulity and 
contempt the existence of apparitions. But an appear- 
ance, which I have witnessed with my own eyes, as far 
as they, or any of the perceptions can be confided in ; 
and which has even received a sort of subsequent con- 
firmation, from other circumstances connected with the 
original facts, leave me in that state of scepticism and 
suspense whieh pervaded my discourse. I will commu- 
nicate to you its cause. Having been brought up to 



THE KONIGSBERG PROFESSOR. 129 

the profession of the church, I was presented by 
Frederick William the First, late King of Prussia, to a 
small benefice, situated in the interior of the country, 
at a considerable distance south of Konigsberg. I re- 
paired thither in order to take possession of my living, 
and found a neat parsonage house, where I passed the 
night in the bed-chamber which had been occupied by 
my predecessor. 

M It was in the longest days of summer ; and on the 
following morning, which was Sunday, while lying 
awake, the curtains of the bed being undrawn, and it 
being broad daylight, I beheld the figure of a man, 
habited in a sort of loose gown, standing at a reading 
desk, on which lay a large book, the leaves of which 
he appeared to turn over at intervals ; on each side of 
him stood a little boy, in whose faces he looked earn- 
estly from time to time, and as he looked he seemed 
always to heave a deep sigh. His countenance, pale 
and disconsolate, indicated some distress of mind. I 
had the most perfect view of these objects, but being 
impressed with too much terror and apprehension to rise 
or to address myself to the appearances before me, I re- 
mained for some minutes a breathless and silent spec- 
tator, without uttering a word or altering my position . 
At length the man closed the book, and then taking the 
two children, one in each hand, ho led them slowly 
across the room"; my eyes eagerly followed him till 
the three figures gradually disappeared, or were lost 
behind an iron stove which stood at the farthest corner 
of the apartment. 

" However deeply and awfully I was affected by the 
sight which I had witnessed, and however incapable I 
was of explaining it to my own satisfaction, yet I reco- 
g3 



130 THE KONIGSBERG PROFESSOR. 

vered sufficiently the possession of my mind to get up, 
and having hastily dressed myself I left the house. 
The sun was long risen, and directing my steps to the 
church, I found that it was open ; but the sexton had 
quitted it, and on entering the chancel, my mind and 
imagination were so strongly impressed by the scene 
which had recently passed, that I endeavoured to dissi- 
pate the recollection by considering the objects around 
me. In almost all Lutheran churches of the Prussian 
dominions, it is the custom to hang up against the walls, 
or some part of the building, the portraits of the suc- 
cessive pastors or clergymen, who have held the living. 
A number of these paintings, rudely performed, were 
suspended in one of the aisles. But I had no sooner 
fixed my eyes on the last in the range, which was the 
portrait of my immediate predecessor, than they became 
rivetted to the object ; as I instantly recognized the 
same face which I had beheld in my bed-chamber, 
though not clouded by the same deep impression of me- 
lancholy and distress. The sexton entered as I was 
still contemplating this interesting head, and I imme- 
diately began a conversation with him on the subject of 
the persons who had preceded me in the living. He 
remembered several incumbents, concerning whom 
respectively, I made various inquiries, till I concluded 
by the last, relative to whose history I was particularly 
inquisitive. ' We considered him/ said the sexton, 
\ as one of the most learned and amiable men who 
have ever resided among us. His character and bene- 
volence endeared him to all his parishioners, who will 
long lament his loss. But he was carried off in the 
middle of his days by a lingering illness, the cause of 
which has given rise to many unpleasant reports among 



THE KONIGSBERG PROFESSOR. 131 

us, and which still form matter of conjecture. It is, 
however, commonly believed that he died of a broken 
heart.' 

** My curiosity being still more warmly excited by 
the mention of this circumstance, I eagerly pressed 
him to disclose to me all he knew or had heard 
on the subject. ' Nothing respecting it/ answered he, 
is absolutely known, but scandal has propagated a 
story of his having formed a criminal connexion with 
a young woman of the neighbourhood, by whom it was 
even asserted he had two sons. As confirmation 
of the report, I know that there certainly were two 
children who have been seen at the parsonage, boys of 
about four or five years old ; but they suddenly dis- 
appeared, some time before the decease of their sup- 
posed father ; though to what place they are sent, or 
what is become of them, we are wholly ignorant. It is 
equally certain, that the surmises and unfavourable opi- 
nions formed respecting this mysterious business, 
which must necessarily have reached him, precipitated, 
if they did not produce the disorder of which our 
late pastor died : but he is gone to his account, and we 
are bound to think charitably of the departed/ 

u It is unnecessary to say with what emotion I 
listened to this relation, which recalled to my imagina- 
tion, and seemed to give proof of the existence of all 
that I had seen. Yet unwilling to suffer my mind to 
become enslaved by phantoms which might have been 
the effect of error or deception, I neither communicated 
to the sexton the circumstance which I had witnessed, 
nor even permitted myself to quit the chamber where it 
had taken place. I continued to lodge there, without 
ever witnessing any similar appearance ; and the recol- 
lection itself began to wear away, as the autumn 



132 THE ROCHESTER APPARITION. 

advanced. When the approach of winter rendered it 
necessary to light fires through the house, I ordered the 
iron stove which stood in the room, and behind which 
the figure which I had beheld, together with the two 
boys, seemed to disappear, to be heated for the purpose 
of warming the apartment. Some difficulty was expe- 
rienced in making the attempt, the stove not only 
smoking intolerably, but emitting an offensive smell. 
Having, therefore, sent for a blacksmith to inspect and 
repair it, he discovered in the inside, at the farthest ex- 
tremity, the bones of two small human bodies, corre- 
sponding perfectly in size as well as in other respects 
with the description given me by the sexton, of the 
two boys who had been seen at the parsonage. 

*' This last circumstance completed my astonish- 
ment, and appeared to confer a sort of reality on an 
appearance which might otherwise have been considered 
as a delusion of the senses. I resigned the living, 
quitted the place, and retired t Konigsberg ; but it has 
produced on my mind the deepest impression, and has 
in its effect given rise to that uncertainty and contradic- 
tion of sentiment which you remarked in my late dis- 
course.^ 

THE ROCHESTER APPARITION. 

The following narrative was communicated in a letter 
from Mr. Thomas Tilson, minister of Aylesworth, 
in Kent, to Mr. Baxter, as a contribution to his cele- 
brated wcrk, " The Certainty of the World of Spirits/' 

Rev. Sir, 

Being informed that you are writing about spectres and 
apparitions, I take the freedom, though a stranger, to send 
you the following relation : 



THE ROCHESTER APPARITION. 133 

Mary, the wife of John Goffe, of Rochester, being afflicted 
with a long illness, removed to her father's house at West- 
Mulling, which is about nine miles distant from her own : 
there she died, June the 4th, 1691. 

The day before her departure, she grew impatiently desi- 
rous to see her two children, whom she had left at home, to 
the care of a nurse. She prayed her husband to hire a 
horse, for she must go home, and die with her children. 
When they persuaded her to the contrary, telling her she was 
not fit to be taken out of her bed, nor able to sit on horse- 
back, she intreated them however to try : " If I cannot sit," 
said she, " I will lie all along upon the horse, for I must go 
to see my poor babes." 

A minister who lives in the town, was with her at ten 
o'clock that night, to whom she expressed good hopes in the 
mercies of God, and a willingness to die ; " but," said she, 
" it is my misery that I cannot see my children." 

Between one and two o'clock in the morning, she fell into 
a trance. One Widow Turner, who watched with her that 
night, says, that her eyes were open, and fixed, and her jaw 
fallen : she put her hand upon her mouth and nostrils, but 
could perceive no breath ; she thought her to be in a fit, and 
doubted whether she were alive or dead. 

The next day, this dying woman told her mother, that she 
had been at home with her children. " That is impossible," 
said the mother, " for you have been here in bed all the 
while." " Yes," replied the other, " but I was with them 
last night, when I was asleep." 

The nurse at Rochester, Widow Alexander by name, 
affirms, and says, she will take her oath of it before a magis- 
trate, and receive the sacrament upon it, that a little before 
two o'clock that morning, she saw the likeness of the said 
Mary Goffe come out of the next chamber, (where the 
elder child lay in a bed by itself, the door being left open,) 
and stood by her bed-side for about a quarter of an hour; 
the younger child was there lying by her ; her eyes moved, 
and her mouth went, but she said nothing. The nurse more- 



134 THE ROCHESTER APPARITrON. 

over says, that she was perfectly awake ; it was then daylight, 
being one of the longest days in the year. She sat up in 
her bed, and looked stedfastly upon the apparition ; in that 
time she heard the bridge clock strike two, and a while after 
said, In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, what 
art thou? Thereupon the appearance removed and went 
away ; she slipped on her clothes and followed, but what be- 
came of it she cannot tell. Then, and not before, she began 
to be grievously affrighted, and went out of doors, and 
walked upon the wharf (the house is just by the river side) 
for some hours, only going in now and then to look at the 
children. At five o'clock she went to a neighbour's house, 
and knocked at the door, but they would not rise : at six she 
went again, then they arose and let her in. She related to 
them all that had passed : they would persuade her 
she was mistaken, or dreamt ; but she confidently affirmed, 
if ever I saw her in all my life, I saw her this night. 

One of those to whom she made the relation, Mary, the 
wife of Mr. J. Sweet, had a messenger who came from 
Mulling that forenoon, to let her know her neighbour 
Goffe was dying, and desired to speak with her; she went 
over the same day, and found her just departing. The 
mother, amongst other discourse, related to her how much 
her daughter had longed to see her children, and said she 
had seen them. This brought to Mrs. Sweet's mind, what 
the nurse had told her that morning, for till then, she had 
not thought fit to mention it, but disguised it, rather as the 
woman's disturbed imagination. 

The substance of this, I had related to me by John Car- 
penter, the father of the deceased, next day after the 
burial : July 2d, I fully discoursed the matter with the nurse, 
and two neighbours, to whose house she went that morning. 

Two days after, I had it from the mother, the minister 
that was with her in the evening, and the woman who 
sat up with her that last night: they all agree in the same 
story, and every one helps to strengthen the other's testimony. 

They all appear to be sober intelligent persons, far enough 



CASHIO BURROUGHS. 135 

off from designing to impose a cheat upon the world, or to 
manage a lie, and what temptation they should lie under for 
so doing, I cannot conceive. 

Your most faithful friend and humble servant, 1 

THOMAS TILSON. 
Minister of Aylesford, near 
Maidstone> in Kent, 

CASHIO BURROUGHS. 

Sir John Burroughs being sent Envoy to the Emperor 
by Kiog Charles I. took his eldest son Cashio Burroughs 
with him ; and pursuing his journey through Italy, left 
his son at Florence to learn the language ; where, 
having an intrigue with a beautiful courtesan, mistress 
to the Grand Duke, their familiarity became so public, 
that it came to the Duke's ear, who resolved to have 
him murdered. Cashio having timely notice of the 
Duke's design, by some of the English there, imme- 
diately left the city, without acquainting his mistress of 
it, and came to England. The Duke, being disap- 
pointed of his revenge, now fell upon his mistress in 
the most reproachful language : she, on the other 
hand, resenting the sudden departure of her gallant, 
of whom she was most passionately enamoured, killed 
herself. At the same moment that she expired, she ap- 
peared to Cashio at his lodgings in London. Colonel 
Remes was then in bed with him, and likewise saw 
her, giving him an account of her resentment of his 
ingratitude to her, in leaving her so suddenly, and 
exposing her to the fury of the Duke, and not omitting 
her own tragical exit ; adding, that he should be 
slain in a duel ; which accordingly happened. Thus 
she appeared to him frequently, even when his 
younger brother (who was afterwards Sir John) was in 



136 



CAPTAIN ROGERS, R.N. 



bed with him. As often as she appeared, he cried out 
with great shrieking, and trembling of his body, and 
anguish of mind, saying, ei Oh God ! here she comes ! 
she comes!" and in this manner she haunted him till 
he was killed. She appeared to him the morning before 
he was killed. " Some of my acquaintance," says 
Aubrey, " have told me, that he was one of the hand- 
somest men in England, and very valiant." — Aubrey's 
Miscellanies. 

CAPTAIN ROGERS, R. N. 

In the year 1694, one Captain Thomas Rogers, 
commander of a ship called the Society, was bound on 
a voyage from London to Virginia. 

The vessel being sent light to Virginia, for a loading 
of tobacco, had not many goods in her outward-bound* 

They had a pretty good passage, and the day before 
had made an observation, when the mates and officers 
brought their books and cast up their reckonings with 
the captain, to see how near they were to the coast 
of America, They all agreed that they were at least 
about a hundred leagues from the capes of Virginia. 
Upon these customary reckonings, and heaving the 
lead, and finding no ground at an hundred fathoms, 
they set the watch, and the captain turned in to bed. 

The weather was good, a moderate gale of wind blew 
fair for the coast; so that the ship might have run about 
twelve or fifteen leagues in the night, after the captain 
was in his cabin. 

He fell asleep, and slept very soundly for about three 
hours, when he waked again, and lay till he heard his 
second mate turn out, and relieve the watch ; he then 
called his chief mate, as he was going off from the 
watch, and asked him how all things fared : who an- 



CAPTAIN ROGERS, R.N. 137 

swered, that all was well, and the gale freshened, and 
they ran at a great rate ; but it was a fair wind, and a 
tine clear night : the captain then went to sleep again. 

About an hour after he had been asleep again, he 
dreamed that a man pulled him, and waked him, and 
bade him turn out and look abroad. He, however, lay 
still and went to sleep, and was suddenly awaked again, 
and thus several times ; and though he knew not what 
was the reason, yet he found it impossible to go to sleep ; 
and still he heard the vision say, turn out and look 
abroad. 

He lay in this uneasiness nearly two hours : but at 
last it increased so, that he could lie no longer, but got 
up, put on his watch gown, and came out upon the 
quarter-deck ; there he found his second mate walking 
about, and the boatswain upon the forecastle, the night 
being fine and clear, a fair wind, and all well as before. 

The mate wondering to see him, at first did not know 
him; but calling, Who is there? the captain answered, 
and the mate returned, Who, the captain ! what is the 
matter, Sir ? 

The captain said, I don't know; but I have been 
very uneasy these two hours, and somebody bad me 
turn out, and look abroad, though I know not what can 
be the meaning of it. 

How does the ship cape ? said the captain. 

South-west by south, answered the mate ; fair for the 
coast, and the wind east by north. 

That is good, said the captain ; and after some other 
questions, he turned about to go back to his cabin, 
when, somebody stood by him and said, " heave the 
lead, heave the lead/ 1 

Upon this, he turned again to his second mate, saying 
when did you heave the lead ! what water had you ? 



138 LORD BACOIST TO LORD MIDDLETON. 

About an hour ago, replied the mate, sixty fathom. 

Heave again, said the captain. 

There is no occasion, Sir, said the mate ; but if you 
please it shall be done. 

Accordingly a hand was called, and the lead being 
cast or heaved, they had ground at eleven fathom. 

This surprised them all, but much more when at the 
next cast, it came up seven fathoms. 

Upon this the captain in a fright bade them put the 
helm a-lee, and about ship, all hands being ordered to 
back the sails, as is usual in such cases. 

The proper orders being obeyed, the ship stayed pre- 
sently, and came about: and before the sails filled, she 
had but four fathoms and a half water under her stem ; 
as soon as she rilled and stood off, they had seven 
fathoms again, and at the next cast eleven fathoms, and 
so on to twenty fathoms ; he then stood off to seaw T ard 
all the rest of the watch, to get into deep water, till 
day-break, when being a clear morning, the capes of 
Virginia, and all the coast of America were in fair 
view under their stem, and but a few leagues distant. 
Had they stood on but one cable's length farther, as 
they were going, they would have been bump a-shore 
and certainly lost their ship, if not their lives. 

LORD BACON TO LORD MIDDLETON. 

Sir W. Dugdale, informed several gentlemen that 
when Maj.-gen.Middleton, afterwards created Lord, went 
into the Highlands of Scotland, to endeavour to make a 
party for Charles I., an old gentleman, who was second- 
sighted, met him and told him, that his attempt, though 
laudable, would not be successful ; and that besides they 
would put the king to death ; and that several other at- 
tempts would be made, but all in vain, but that his son, 



HENRY JACOB, TO HIS COUSIN DOCTOR JACOB. 139 

would come in, although it would be long first, and 
should at last be restored. # 

This nobleman had a great friendship for the Laird 
Bocconi, and they made an agreement, that the first of 
them that died should appear to the other in extremity. 
It happened that Lord Middleton was taken prisoner at 
the battle of Worcester, and sent up to London : while 
be was confined in the Tower, one morning, lying pensive 
in his bed, Bocconi appeared to him. Lord Middleton 
asked him if he were dead or alive ? He replied, that he 
was dead, and had been so many years, but that he was 
come to revive his hopes, for that in a very short time, 
within three days, he should escape : this fell out as it 
was foretold, and he did so in his wife's clothes. When 
he had delivered his message, he lightly tripped about 
the room, and disappeared. 

This account Sir William Dugdale received from the 
Bishop of Edinburgh, who inserted it in his miscel- 
lanies. — Aubrey, 

HENRY JACOB, TO HIS COUSIN DOCTOR JACOB, 
OP CANTERBURY. 

Henry Jacob was a man of sound learning, of 
Merton College, Oxford, where he died in 1673. 
About a week after his death, Dr. Jacob being in his 
bed, and awake, and the moon shining bright, saw his 
cousin Henry standing by his bed, in his shirt, with a 
white cap on his head, and his beard, which he wore 
very particular, turning up, just as when he was alive. 

At first the Doctor questioned himself as to the reality 
of his being awake, and getting up in a sitting posture, 
for a while looked at the phantom before him with 
dread and astonishment. At last, he lay himself down, 
and thought to compose himself to sleep again : but 
curiosity urged him on to look again, and he first turned 



140 R. NELSON, ESQ. TO LADY ELIZABETH HASTINGS. 

himself only on his side, when he saw his cousin stand- 
ing there as before. He again lay down, but soon after 
taking courage, rose up as at first, and there saw Henry 
Jacob, in the same form as before, but yet he had not 
sufficient courage to speak to him. The spectre stood 
full half an hour before him, and then disappeared. 

Dr. Jacob immediately went down stairs, and while 
relating the story, the cook-maid, who had gone out to 
fetch wood to keep up the fire, returned in great trepida- 
tion, having seen a spectre standing like in a shirt upon 
the wood pile, 

Mr. Aubrey reports this passage from Dr. Jacob him- 
self, who related the whole to him, when at Lord Teyn- 
ham's in Kent, where he was then in a medical 
capacity. — Wood's Athence Oxon. 

ROBERT NELSON, ESQ. TO THE HON. LADY ELIZABETH 
HASTINGS, AT LEDSTONE, YORK. 

This lady was very remarkable for her piety and 
charity.* Archbishop Sharpe, Dr. Lucas, Mr. Nelson, 
and Mr. Locke, were her most intimate friends. Mr. 
Nelson was the first called away, and between him and 
this lady there subsisted a sort of religious compact for 
a communication of spirits in the hour of extremity, for 
in her last illness she was constantly anxious and in ex- 
pectation of a messenger of glad tidings as she called 
him, for whom she waited. 

For some time her friends, household, and servants, 
thought that the severity of the pain she suffered, which 
proceeded from a cancer in her breast, had rendered her 
delirious : but in this they deceived themselves, for she 
convinced them at last, that her hope was rational, in 

* See her story in the Tatler No. 42. and where her character is 
drawn under the name of the Aspasia. 



THE FORTUNATE DREAM. 141 

declaring that in a short time she should be able to tell 
the exact hour of her departure. 

She called for a manuscript volume of notes of her 
own writing, and shewed her brother, the Earl of Hunt- 
ingdon, a memorandum, which plainly mentioned, that 
an agreement had been made between her and Mr. 
Nelson, that the first that died should return if consci- 
ously possible, and warn the other of the approaching 
period and termination of life. 

During the whole of her illness two nurses sat up w T ith 
her, relieving each other at intervals for rest in the night. 
On the morning of the sixth day previous to her dissolu- 
tion, about four o'clock, there came visibly into the 
room the form and appearance of a grave and venerable 
looking man : the nurse saw it plainly, and related how 
he was dressed ; which was exactly the general appear- 
ance of the late Mr. Nelson. Lady Hastings was ail 
the while seemingly asleep. The phantom, after stand- 
ing at the side of the bed sat down in an elbow chair, 
which chanced, to be near. The nurse, after beholding 
it a short time, rang a bell for a servant to come down 
to her, but not being answered, she took the light in her 
hand, and went to call her up ; but before she could 
return it was gone, and Lady Hastings being then 
awake, rebuked her servants for their silly fears, and 
said, she had now the sweet assurance of relief from her 
pain, in six days, which happened accordingly. 

This story is so well attested, that it has passed into 
several theological w T orks, and more than once has been 
mentioned in the pulpit. Mr. Thomas Barnard, who 
wrote her historical character, and published it, with an 
account of her public charities, mentions it with some 
additional circumstances. 

THE FORTUNATE DREAM. 

A merchant of London, being on the Continent 



142 THE FORTUNATE DREAM. 

upon business, chanced to meet an old school -fellow, 
who had turned Roman Catholic, and received priest's 
orders. This meeting naturally recalled their former 
affection and friendship, and induced them, regardless 
of the difference of their sentiments, to spend the even- 
ing together. This was in French Flanders ; and the 
wine being good, led them insensibly on to a midnight 
conversation, in which religion became the principal 
topic. That, as is but too often the case between per- 
sons of different persuasions, was carried beyond all 
bounds of decency on both sides ; and the merchant, 
who had read many polemical books, got the better of 
the argument in favour of the reformed religion of his 
country, which the other had abandoned. The priest 
seemed to be much chagrined, and his countenance 
visibly discovered the emotions of his mind. At length, 
however, appearing to resume his pleasantry and good 
nature, he invited the merchant to breakfast with him 
the next morning, at a convent, over which he presided. 
They then parted in the utmost friendship, and the 
merchant soon after went to bed, where soon falling 
asleep, he had a dream of the most frightful nature. 
He thought he entered a den where were ten thousand 
hissing serpents, one of which twisting its train round 
his neck, darted its sting into his bosom. The dread 
of this instantly awaked him, and caused him to start 
from his couch in the greatest agitation. His mind the 
remainder of the night was in great agony. He again 
endeavoured to compose himself to sleep, but all in vain, 
the horror of the vision hung on his imagination, till the 
sun arose, when he got up, and walked out into a neigh- 
bouring field. Meeting a friend and countryman, who 
was a military captain, and headed a party of soldiers 
encamped in the vicinity, and who quickly discovered the 
confusion his mind was in, he opened the whole business, 



THE FORTUNATE DREAM. 143 

told his dream, and promised to meet him again after 
he had breakfasted at the convent. Although I pay 
but little regard to dreams in general, said the captain, 
yet there is something in yours so extremely uncommon, 
that I verily believe it to be ominous of some disaster 
that awaits you this day. But, continued he, I would 
by no means advise you to go to the priest ; for perhaps 
you may renew the argument, and he will by no means 
take it well to be overcome in his own convent. As T 
have given my promise, said u±c merchant, I must go 
and visit my old school-fellow, whose friendship was 
always sincere, and whose company always delighted 
me, My dear friend, quoth the captain, if you will go, 
I wish you well out again. These singular words so 
struck the mind of the merchant, that he desired the 
captain to call upon him, as by accident, about half an 
hour after the time appointed, at the convent, which the 
captain promised to do. 

At nine o'clock the merchant knocked at the gate of 
the convent, and was met by the priest, who welcomed 
him to the place with every expression of friendship. 
Then conducting him up a stair-case, they came to a 
door, which the priest opened. After some ceremonies, 
they advanced along a gallery, at the end of which were 
two folding doors, which, on the priest's ringing a bell, 
flew open, and presented a fire, and two ruffian-looking 
fellows, with instruments of torture in their hands. 
The merchant that instant gave himself up for lost, and 
in vain remonstrated with his false friend, who calling 
him heretic, and other opprobrious names, commanded 
the waiting villains to perform their task without farther 
ceremony. 

At that instant a dreadful alarm was given below, 
which greatly surprising the priest, he went to know 



J 44 MURDER IN CRIPPLEGATE. 

the cause of it, and the ruffians followed him, leaving 
the merchant alone ; who imagining that some unhap- 
py sufferers below had gained the mastery over their tor- 
mentors, had courage enough to run down stairs, at the 
bottom of which he was agreeably surprised, to meet the 
captain with a file of musqueteers, who instantly took 
him under their protection, and conducted him safely 
from the convent to the inn ; the captain declaring, 
that he was obliged to have recourse to force, in order to 
make his way into the convent. 

DISCOVERY OF THE ROBBERS A1ND MURDERERS OF 
t MR. STOCKDEN, VICTUALLER, IN GRUB-STREET, 
CRIPPLEGATE 

On the 3rd of December, 1695, about mid- 
night, Mr. JStockden was murdered and robbed by four 
men then unknown; one Maynard was suspected but 
he got off. Soon afterwards, Mr. Stockdeu appeared to a 
Mrs. Greenwood in a dream, and shewed her a house in 
Thames-street, near the George, saying, that one of the 
murderers lived there. She was somewhat intimidated, 
yet she went the next morning, and took with her one 
Mary Bugges, to go with her to the house which the 
vision had directed her to, and asking for Maynard, 
was told he was from home. Mr. Stockden appeared to 
her again, and then presented Maynard' s face before her 
with a flat mole on the side of his nose (whom she had 
never seen;) and more particularly informed her, that a 
wiredrawer should take him, and that he should be car- 
ried to Newgate in a coach. Upon enquiry they found 
out one of that trade, who was his intimate friend, and 
who for a reward of ten pounds, promised to seize him ; 
which he both undertook and effected, as follows. 
He sent for Maynard to a public house, near Hockley- 
in-the-Hole, where he played at cards with him till a 



OMENS OF MURDER& 145 

constable was sent for, who apprehended him, and 
took him before a magistrate, who committed^ him to 
Newgate, whither he was carried in a coach. 

Maynard while in prison, confessed the fact, and im- 
peached his accomplices, who were Marsh, Bevel, and 
Mercer : he said, that Marsh was the abettor, knowing 
that Mr. Stockden had money and plate, but was not 
present at the murder, &c. yet he had his share of the 
booty. Marsh suspecting that Maynard had made some 
discovery, left his home, but soon after this, Mr. Stock* 
den appeared again to Mrs. Greenwood, and shewed 
her a house in Old-street, (where she had not been 
before) and said, that Marsh lodged there. Next morn- 
ing she took Mary Bugges with her, as before, and en- 
quired for Marsh, but he was not at home. But he was 
soon after taken at another place and secured. 

Soon after this, Mrs. Greenwood dreamed again that Mr. 
Stockden carried her into the Borough prison-yard, and 
shewed her Bevel, the third criminal, whom she had never 
seen before. Thither she went, taking with her Mrs. 
Footman, Mr. Stockden' s kinswoman and house-keeper : 
they went together to the Marshalsea, and enquired for 
Bevel, being informed that he had been lately brought 
thither for coining. They desired to see him ; and when he 
came down, both declared that he was the man. They 
then applied to a peace officer, who procured his removal 
to Newgate, where he presently confessed the horrid 
murder : and thus the three principal criminals were 
tried, condemned, and hanged. This account is testified 
by the Bishop of York, &c. and by the curate of Crip- 
plegate, who published the narrative. 

WARNING OF MURDER BY A DREAM. 

A young gentleman in the city of Dublin, in Ireland, 
dreamed one night that his sister (who was lately mar- 

H 



H(> OMENS OF MURDERS. 

ried, and lived at some small distance) had been mur- 
dered : and waking, it gave him some uneasiness ; but 
finding it was only a dream he went to sleep again, 
when he dreamed the same thing. He then got up, 
went to the apartment of an old lady, and told her his 
dream with great agitation of mind. She smiled at him, 
and said that she wondered that a gentleman of his 
understanding should be so troubled about a dream, 
and bid him go to bed again. He did so, fell asleep, 
and dreamed the third time that his sister was murdered. 
He then got up and dressed himself with all speed, 
hastened to his sister's house, where he found her cut 
and mangled in a barbarous manner, by her cruel hus- 
band, a rank papist. She just lived to speak a few words 
to her brother, and then expired of her wounds ; and the 
base villain was apprehended, tried, and hanged for 
the crime. 

In the second year of the reign of king James 1st. 
one Anne Waters carrying on certain intrigues w T ith a 
young man in the neighbourhood, and finding their ap- 
pointments were interrupted by her husband, they agreed 
to strangle him with a wet napkin, so that the mark 
might not be perceived, which being done, they buried 
him under a dunghill near an adjoining cow house. 
The man was missed by his neighbours, but the woman 
dissembling grief, carried it off so well, that none suspect- 
ed her in the least of being accessary to his death, or of so 
much as knowing what was become of him, but assisted 
her enquiries after him. After some time, conjectures 
being almost over, one of the inhabitants of the village 
dreamed, that his neighbour Waters was strangled, and 
buried under a dunghill near the cow house ; and re- 
lating his dream to others, it was resolved that the place 
should be searched with a constable ; which being done, 



JAMES HADDOCK TO FRANCIS TAVERNER. 147 

Waters's corpse was found ; and some concurring suspi- 
cions appearing, the wife was apprehended, and con- 
fessing the truth ; she was burnt, according to the law in 
that case provided. — Baker's Chronicle, p. 614. 

JAMES HADDOCK TO FRANCIS TAVERNER, 

At Michaelmas, 1662. 

Francis Taverner, about twenty-five years old, a 
lusty, stout fellow, then servant at large, (afterwards 
porter) to the Lord Chichester, Earl of Donegal, at 
Belfast, in the north of Ireland, county of Antrim and 
diocese of Connor, riding late in the night from Hilbrough 
homeward, near Drum Bridge, his horse, though of 
good mettle, suddenly made a stand ; and he supposing 
him to be taken with the staggers, alighted to bleed 
him in the mouth, and presently mounted again. As 
he was setting forward, there seemed to pass by him two 
horsemen, though he could not hear the treading of their 
feet, which amazed him. Presently there appeared a 
third in a white coat just at his elbow, in the likeness 
of James Haddock, formerly an inhabitant of M alone, 
where he died near five years before ; whereupon 
Taverner asked him, in the name of God, who he was ? 
He replied, I am James Haddock ; and you may call 
me to mind by this token, that, about five years ago, I 
and two other friends were at your fathers house, and 
you, by your father's appointment, brought us some 
nuts ; and therefore be not afraid, said the apparition ; 
whereupon Taverner remembering the circumstance, 
thought it must be Haddock ; and those two who 
passed him he thought to be his two friends with him 
when he gave them nuts, and courageously asked him 
why he appeared rather to him than any other ? He 



148 JAMES HADDOCK TO FRANCIS TAVERNER. 

answered, because he was a man of more resolution 
than others ; and, if he would ride his way with him, 
he would acquaint him with a business he had to deliver 
to him ; which Tavern er refused to do, and would go 
his own way (for they were now at a quadrival,) and 
then rode homewards. 

The night after there appeared again to him the like- 
ness of James Haddock, and bid him go to Eleanor 
Welsh, now the wife of Davis, living at Malone, but 
formerly the wife of the said James Haddock, by 
whom she had an only son, to whom the said 
James Haddock had by his will given a lease 
which he held of the Lord Chichester, of which the son 
was deprived by Davis (who had married his mother,) 
and to ask her if her maiden name was not Eleanor 
Welsh ; and, if it were/' to tell her that it was the will 
of her former husband, James Haddock, that their son 
should be righted in the lease. But Tavern er, partly 
loath to gain the ill will of his neighbours, and partly 
thinking he should not be credited, but looked on as de- 
luded, long neglected to deliver his message, till,; having 
been every night for about a month's space haunted with 
this apparition, in several forms (every night more and 
more terrible), which was usually preceded by an 
unusual trembling over his whole body, and great change 
of countenance, manifest to his wife, in whose presence 
frequently the apparition was: (though not visible to her,) 
at length he went to Malone, to Davis's wife, and 
asked her whether her maiden name was not Eleanor 
Welsh ? If it was, he had something to say to her. She 
replied there was another Eleanor Welsh besides her. 
Hereupon Taverner returned, without delivering his 
message. 

The same night, being fast asleep in his bed (for the 
former apparitions were as he sat by the fire with his 



JAMES HADDOCK TO FRANCIS TAVERNER. 149 

wife,) he was awakened by something pressing upon him, 
and saw again the apparition of James Haddock, in 
a white coat, as at other times, who asked him if he had 
delivered his message ? He answered, he had been there 
with Eleanor Welsh ; upon which the apparition, look- 
ing more pleasantly upon him, bid him not be afraid, 
and then disappeared. 

But some nights after (he not having delivered his 
message) he came again, and, appearing in many formi- 
dable shapes, threatened to tear him in pieces if he did 
not do it. This made him leave his house where he 
resided, in the mountains, and betake himself to the 
town of Belfast, where he sat up all night at one Prince's 
house, and a servant or two of Lord Chichester's, who 
were desirous to see or hear the spirit. About midnight, 
as they were all by the fire side, they beheld Taverner's 
countenance to change and a trembling to fall on him, 
who presently espied the apparition in a room opposite 
to him where he sat, and took up the candle and went 
to it, and resolutely asked him, in the name of God, 
wherefore it haunted him ? It replied, because he had 
not delivered his message, and withal threatened to tear 
him in pieces if he did not do itspeedily ; and then chang- 
ing itself into many prodigious shapes/ it vanished in 
white, like a spirit ; whereupon Francis Taverner 
became much dejected and troubled, and next day went 
to Lord Chichester's house, and, with tears in his 
eyes, related to some of the family the sadness of his 
condition. They told it to his lordship's chaplain, Mr. 
James South, who came to Taverner, and, being ac- 
quainted of his story, advised hiin to go at this present 
time to Malone, to deliver punctually his message, and 
promised to go along with him. But first they went to 
Dr. Lewis Downes, then minister at Belfast, who, upon 



150 JAMES HADDOCK TO FRANCIS TAVERNER. 

hearing the relation of the whole matter, doubted at first 
the truth of it, attributing it rather to melancholy than 
any kind of reality ; but, was afterwards fully satisfied 
of its authenticity. 

They accordingly went to Davis's house, where the 
woman being desired to come to them, Taverner deliver- 
ed his message, by telling her he could not be quiet for 
the ghost of her former husband, James Haddock, who 
threatened to tear him in pieces if he did not tell her she 
must right John Haddock, her son by him, in a lease 
wherein she and Davis, her present husband, had wronged 
him. This done, he presently found great quietness in 
his mind, and, thanking the gentlemen for their com- 
pany, advice, and assistance, he departed thence to his 
brother's house, at Drum Bridge ; where, about two 
nights after, the aforesaid apparition came to him again, 
and asked if he had delivered the message ? He answer- 
ed, he had done it fully. It replied that he must deliver 
the message to the executors also, that the business 
might be perfected. At this meeting Taverner asked 
the spirit if Davis would do him any injury ? To which 
it answered at first somewhat doubtfully, but at length 
threatened Davis if he attempted any thing to the injury 
of Taverner ; and then disappeared. 

The day following, Dr. Jeremiah Taylor, Bishop of 
Down, Connor, and Dromore, was to hold a court at 
Dromore, and commanded me who was then secretary 
to him, to write for Taverner to meet him there, which 
he did ; and there, in the presence of many, he examined 
Taverner strictly in this strange scene of Providence, as 
my lord bishop styled it. By the account given him 
both by Taverner and others, who knew Taverner and 
much of the former particulars, his lordship was satisfied 
that the apparition was true and real, but said no more 



JAMES HADDOCK TO FRANCIS TAVERNER. 15 1 

there to him, because at Hilborough, three miles from 
thence, on his way home his lordship has informed that 
Lady Conway and other persons of quality were come 
purposely to hear his lordship examine the matter. 
Taverner went with us to Hilborough, and there, to 
satisfy the curiosity of the company, after asking many 
things, his lordship advised him to ask these questions the 
next time the spirit appeared: — Whence are you ? Are 
you a good or bad spirit ? Where is your abode ? What 
station do you hold ? How are you settled in the other 
world ? And what is the reason that you appear for the 
relief of your son in so small a matter, when so many 
widows and orphans are oppressed in the world, being 
defrauded of greater matters, and none from thence of 
their relations appear, as you do, to right them ? 

That night Taverner was sent for to Lisburn, to Lord 
Conway's, three miles from Hilborough, on his way 
hence to Belfast, where he was again strictly examined 
in the presence of many good men and women of the 
aforesaid matter, and was ordered to lie at my Lord 
Conway's all night, About nine or ten o'clock at night, 
standing by the fireside with his brother and many 
others, his countenance changed, and he fell into a 
trembling, the usual prognostics of the apparition ; and 
being loath to make any disturbance in his lordships 
house, he and hisb rotherwent out into the court where 
he saw the spirit coming over the wall, which, approach- 
ing nearer, asked him if he had delivered his message to 
the executors also ? He replied he had, and wondered it 
should still haunt him. It replied he need not fear; for 
it would do him no hurt, nor trouble him any more, but 
the executor, if he did not see the boy righted. Here his 
brother put him in mind to ask the spirit what the bishop 
bid him, which he did presently; but it gave him no 



152 CAPTAIN H. BELL, AND LUTHER' S TABL5J TALK. 

answer, but crawled on its hands and feet over the wall 
again, and then disappeared. 

Note. 1. That Pierce, at whose house and in whose pre- 
sence the apparition was, being asked whether he saw the 
spirit, said he did not, but thought at that time he had a mist 
all over his eyes. 2. What was then spoken to Taverner was 
in so low and hollow a voice that they could not understand 
what it said. 3. At Pierce's house it stood just in the entry of 
a door ; and, as a maid passed by to go in at the door, Taver- 
ner saw it go aside and give way to the maid, though she 
saw it not. 4. That the lease was hereupon disposed of to 
the boy's use. 5. The spirit at the last, appearing at my Lord 
Conway's house, revealed somewhat to Taverner, which he 
would not discover to any of us that asked him. 

This Taverner, with all the persons and places men- 
tioned in the story, I knew very well ; and all wise 
and good men believed it, especially the Bishop and the 
Dean of Connor, Dr. Rust. . 
Witness, 

Your humble servant, 

Thomas Alcock. 

CAPTAIN HENRY BELL, AND LUTHER'S TABLE TALK. 

Captain Henry Bell, in his narrative prefixed to Lu- 
ther's Table Talk, printed in England in 1652: after 
having mentioned the mystery and providence of the 
discovery of it under ground, in Germany, where it had 
laid hid fifty -two years, relates the following admonition 
relating to the translation of it into English. 

Capsar Van Spar, a German gentleman, having re- 
covered the copy from the worms, desired Captain Bell, 
with whom he was well acquainted, while he was 
agent for king James I. on the continent, to translate 



CAPTAIN H, BELL, AND LUTHER'S TABLE TALK. 153 

it into English, and publish it in London. But Captain 
Bell was for some time prevented from prosecuting that 
design, so as to bring it to a proper conclusion. 

About six weeks after he had received the German 
copy, being well in health, and in bed with his wife, 
between twelve and one o'clock, there appeared to him 
at the side of the bed, an old man clothed in a light- 
coloured habit, of reverend aspect, having a broad and 
white beard, which hung as low as his girdle, who smi- 
ling at him said, in a gentle manner of rebuke, " will 
you not take time to translate that book which is sent 
to you out of Germany ? if you do not, I will shortly 
hereafter provide you both time and place to do it ;" — 
and then instantly disappeared. 

Captain Bell did not pay much attention to the 
matter afterwards. Time wore it off his memory, 
and he paid no more regard to what he had seen 
and heard, than if it had been a mere dream. 

However, he had soon reason to recollect the old 
man's words, for soon after, being at his lodgings in 
King-street, Westminster, at dinner with his wife, two 
messengers came from the Council Board, with a 
warrant, to carry him to the Gate-house, there to be 
confined till farther orders from the Lords of the Privy 
Council. Upon this warrant he was detained ten 
years a close prisoner, whereof he spent five in the 
translation of the afore-mentioned work. 

This narrative is extracted from the preface of Lu- 
ther's Table Talk, printed in 1652, and from what 
Mr. Aubrey observes upon this story, which he briefly 
relates, it appears, that, whatever was the pretended 
cause of his confinement, the true reason of the Cap- 
tain's commitment was, because he was urgent with the 
Lord Treasurer for his arrears, which amounted to a 

h3 



154 LADY DAVIES. 

great sum ; he being unwilling to pay, to be freed from 
his clamours, hit upon the scheme of holding him in 
prison. 

LADY DAVIES. 

Sir John Davies was a very able and learned law- 
yer ; and the author of an Abridgment of Sir Edward 
Coke's Reports, in Law French, which was translated 
into English after his decease, and published in 1651. 
His own Reports, which were first published in Law 
French, in folio, were also afterwards translated into 
English, and reduced to an octavo size. 

Sir John's Lady was a very singular character, and 
dealt much in prophecies. An account of her predic- 
tions was published in 1649, in 4to. under the title of 
lt Strange and Wonderful Prophecies." .She was re- 
ported to have foretold the death of her husband. An- 
thony Wood, speaking of the time of Sir John 
Davies's death, says, (i it was then commonly ru- 
moured, that his prophetical lady had foretold']-* 
death in some manner, on the Sunday going before. 
For, while she sat at dinner by him, she suddenly burst 
out into tears ; whereupon he asking her what the 
matter was, she answered, ' husband, these are your 
funeral tears;' to which he made reply, « pray, there- 
fore, spare your tears now, and I will be content that 
you shall laugh when T am dead.' " 

Lady Davies also foretold the death of Archbishop 
Laud ; but appears to have been mistaken as to the 
time. She had before spoken something unluckily 
of the Duke of Buckingham, importing that he should 
not live till the end of August, which raised her to the 
reputation of a cunning woman amongst the ignorant 
people; and now she prophesied of the new Archbishop, 



LORD MOHCX TO HTS MISTRESS. 155 

that he should live but few days after the fifth of No- 
vember ; for which, and other prophecies of a more 
mischievous nature, she was brought into the Court of 
High Commission. Much pains were taken by the 
court to dispossess her of this spirit ; but all would not <16, 
till Lamb, then Dean of the Arches, shot her through 
and through with an arrow borrowed from her own quiver. 
This was certainly the most sensible way of ani- 
madverting on the poor lady's infirmities ; but to this 
course unfortunately her judges did not confine them, 
selves. She was prosecuted in the High Commission 
Court, particularly for what was called c an enthusi- 
astical petition to King Charles ;' and was treated with 
great rigour and cruelty. JShe was fined three thousand 
pounds, and closely imprisoned three years in the Gate- 
house, Westminster. She is also said to have been 
confined several years in Bethlem Hospital, and in the 
Tower of London ; and she complained that, during 
part of her imprisonment, she was not allowed the use 
,jja Bible, nor permitted to have the attendance of a 
female servant. — Biogr. Brit. vol. iv. 

LORD MOHUN TO HIS MISTRESS. 

Lord Mohux was a dissolute young rake, and lived 
in the days of Charles I. According to the custom of 
that time, his sense of honour led him to resent, in a 
serious manner, an affront, which had produced a quarrel 
between him and a person of the first quality, though a 
foreigner, in this kingdom. By appointment they met 
in Chelsea-fields, near a place called Ebery-farm, 
and where Lord Mohun was killed, but not without 
suspicions of foul play. 

At the same time Lord Mohun kept company with a 
lady whom he supported in handsome apartments in 



156 OMEN TO MRS. STEPHENS. 

James-street, Covent-garden. Lord Mohun was 
killed about ten o'clock in the morning; and at that 
hour, his mistress being in bed, saw him come to her 
bed-side, draw the curtains, look upon her and go away. 
She called after him, but received no answer ; she then 
rung for her maid, asked her for Lord Mohun, but the 
woman replied, she did not see him, and had the key of 
the chamber door in her pocket. 

About the same time, Mr. Brown, brother-in-law to 
Lord Coningsby, discovered his being murdered to 
several of his friends. 

Glanvil relates, that his apparition was seen by his 
sister and her maid, then dwelling in Fleet-street, at 
the hour and minute he was* killed in Herefordshire, 
which happened in 1692.— Aubrey's Miscellanies. 

OMEN TO MRS. STEPHENS, OF SPITAL-FIELPS. 

About the year 1611, there lived in Spital-fields, 
one Mrs. Anne Stephens, a person at that time well 
known and respected, for her dealings with the mercers 
on Ludgate-bill. While seated one evening in her 
house alone, and musing upon business, she happened 
by accident to look behind her, when, to her great sur- 
prise, she saw, as it were, a dead corpse, lying ex- 
tended upon the floor, as a dead body should be, except 
that the foot of one leg was fixed on the ground. She 
looked at it for some time, but by degrees withdrew her 
«yes from so unpleasing an object. However, a strange 
curiosity soon overcame her fears, when she ventured a 
second time to look that way, and saw it for a consider- 
able time longer, fixed as before. She again turned 
from the melancholy spectacle, and resuming courage, 
after a little reflection, got up with a design to satisfy 



THE PARLIAMENTARY ARREST. 157 

herself of the reality of the vision, by going nearer to 
it : but lo ! it was not there ! 

This circumstance proved an admonition to her ; for, 
taking it as a warning of her approaching dissolution, 
she from that hour began to settle her worldly affairs, 
and had just time to see them arranged, when she was 
taken ill of a pleurisy, which carried her off in seven 
days. 

THE PARLIAMENTARY ARREST. 

Dr. Beaumont relates that in his time, a member 
of parliament, in the hopes, that upon the recess of the 
house, which was not far off, he should be at liberty, 
withdrew himself, and neglected his public duties. 
The House resenting it, a vote was passed, ordering the 
secretary of state to prosecute him at law. This 
obliged him to resolve to leave the kingdom, and in the 
meantime to conceal himself; government having 
issued a proclamation for apprehending him, with a 
reward to the person who should take him. 

In order to conceal himself more effectually, he left 
his lodging where he had been hid for some time, and 
removed to Barnet, on the borders of Hertfordshire; 
intending, as soon as he had settled some family affairs, 
to go away north, into Scotland. Before he quitted, 
he was obliged to come to London, to sign some 
writings to secure an estate, which it was feared might 
be seized by outlaw, had the prosecution proceeded so 
far. 

The night before he had appointed to come to Lon. 

don, being in bed with one Mr. R D , he 

dreamed that he was in his lodgings in London, where 
he had been concealed as above ; and in his dream he 
saw two men come to the door, who said they were 



158 THE PARLIAMENTARY ARREST. 

messengers, and produced a warrant from the secretary 
of state to apprehend him ; and that accordingly they 
seized upon him. 

The vision surprised and awaked him, and he waked 

Mr. D , and told him the dream, and his surprise 

about it. Mr. D , seeing it was but a dream, 

advised him to go to sleep ; which he did. 

As soon as he was asleep again, he was waked with 
the same dream exactly as before ; and he waked his 
brother again, as before : this disturbed them both very 
much ; but being heavy to sleep, they both went to 
sleep again, and dreamed no more. He saw the men 
that apprehended him, their countenances, clothes, 
weapons, &c. and descri bed them in the morning to his 
brother D , with all the particulars. 

However, the journey to London being as he thought 
urgent, he got ready in the morning to set off, resolving 
to stay but one day, and then set forward for Scotland. 
Accordingly, he went for London in the morning, 
and, that he might not be known, he walked, by 
private roads, over Enfield Chace, to Southgate, Horn- 
sey, &c. 

During his journey, his mind was heavy and oppres- 
sed, and he frequently said to his brother, who walked 
with him, that he was certain he was going to London 
to be surprised, and so strong was the foreboding im- 
pression upon his mind, that he once stopt at flornsey, 
and endeavoured to get a lodging, intending to send his 
brother to London, to see if any thing had happened 
there, and to give him notice. 

As- he had just secured a convenient lodging, he acci- 
dentally saw a gentleman standing at the next door, 
whom he knew very well, but durst not venture to speak 
on that occasion ; and finding on enquiry that he dwelt 



RICHARD BO VET. 159 

there, he concluded that was not a safe place for him, 
and resolved to go forward. 

The impression upon his mind continuing, he stopt 
again at Islington, and endeavoured to get a lodging 
there, but could not ; at length his brother brought him 
word he could not get a lodging, except where it was 
too public. Well said he, then I must go to London ; 
and accordingly he went, and the next morning was 
taken by the messengers, in the manner as he had been 
told in his dream ; by the same two men, whose faces 
N he had seen, and with the same clothes on and weapons 
exactly as he had described. 

APPARITION SEEN BY RICHARD BOVET. 

{As related by himself.) 

About the year 1667, I was staying with some per- 
sons of rank, in the house of a nobleman in the west 
country which had formerly been a nunnery. I must 
confess I had often heard the servants and others that 
inhabited or lodged there speak much of the noises, 
stirs, and apparitions that frequently disturbed the house, 
but had at that time no apprehensions of it; for, the 
house being full of strangers, the nobleman's steward,, 
Mr. C, lay with me in a fine wainscot room, called ma- 
lady's chamber. We went to our lodging pretty early; 
and having a good fire in the room, we spent sope time 
in reading, in which he was much delightect : then, 
having got into bed and put out the candles, we observed 
the room to be very light by the brightness of the moon, 
so that a wager was laid between us that it was pos- 
sible to read written hand by that light upon the bed 
where we lay. 

We had scarce finished our conversation upon that 



1 60 RICHARD BOVET. 

affair, when I saw (my face being towards the door, 
which was locked), entering into the room, five appear- 
ances of very fine and lovely women : they were of ex- 
cellent stature, and their dresses seemed very fine, but 
covered all except their faces with their light veils, whose 
skirts trailed largely upon the floor. They entered in 
a file, one after the other, and in that posture walked 
round the room, till the foremost came and stood by that 
side of the bed where I lay, (with my left hand over the 
side of the bed ; for my head rested on that arm, and I 
determined not to alter the posture in which I was) ; 
she struck me upon that hand with a blow that felt very 
soft, but I did never remember whether it were cold or 
hot. I demanded, in the name of the blessed Trinity, 
what business they had there, but received no answer* 
Then I spoke to Mr. C. — "Sir,- do you see what fair 
guests we have come to visit us?" before which they 
all disappeared. I found him in some kind of agony, 
and was forced to grasp him on the breast with my right 
hand (which was next him underneath the bedclothes), 
before I could obtain speech of him : then he told me 
he had seen the fair guests I spoke of, and had heard 
me speak to them ; but withal said that he was not able 
to speak sooner unto me, being extremely affrighted at 
the sight of a dreadful monster, which, assuming a shape 
betwixt that of a lion and a bear, attempted to come 
upon the bed's foot. I told him I thanked God nothing 
so frightful had presented itself to me; but I hoped 
(through his assistance) not to dread the ambages of 
hell. It was a long time before I could compose him 
to sleep; and, though he had many disturbances in his 
own room, and understood of others in the house, yet he 
acknowledged he had never been so terrified during many 
years' abode there. 



RICHARD BOVET. 161 

The next day, at dinner, he showed to many persons of 
principal quality the mark that had been occasioned on his 
breast by the gripe I was forced to give him to get him to 
speak, and related all the passages very exactly; after 
which he protested that he would never more lie in that 
room ; upon which I set up a resolution to lodge in it 
again, not knowing but something of the reason of those 
troubles might by that means be imparted to me. 

The next night, therefore, I ordered a Bible and 
another book to be laid in the room, and resolved to 
spend my time by the fire, in reading and contempla- 
tion, till I found myself inclined to sleep ; and accord- 
ingly, having taken leave of the family at the usual 
hour, I addressed myself to what I proposed, not going 
into bed till past one in the morning. A little after I 
was got into bed, 1 heard something walk about the 
room, like a woman in a tabby gown trailing about the 
floor : it made a mighty rustling noise, but I could see 
nothing, though it was nearly as light as the night before. 
It passed by the foot of the bed, and a little opened the 
curtains, and thence went to a closet door on that side, 
through which it found admittance, although it was 
close locked : there it seemed to groan, and draw a 
great chair with its foot, in which it seemed to sit, and 
turn over the leaves of a large folio, which, generally, 
make a loud clattering noise ; so it continued in that 
posture, sometimes groaning, sometimes dragging the 
chair and clattering the book, till it w T as near day. 
Afterwards I lodged several times in this room, but 
never met with molestation. 

This I can attest to be a true account of what passed 
in that room the two described nights ; and, though Mr. 
C. be lately dead, who was a very ingenious man, and 
affirmed the first part unto many with whom he was 



162 THE RADIANT BOY. 

conversant, it remains that I appeal to the knowledge 
of those who have been inhabitants or lodgers in the 
said house for what remains to justify the credibility of 
the resk 

APPARITION TO THE LATE MARQUIS OF LONDONDERRY. 

About twenty-five years since, the late Lord Lon- 
donderry was, for the first time, on a visit to a gentle- 
man in the north of Ireland. The mansion was such 
an one as spectres are fabled to inhabit : it was asso- 
ciated with many recollections of historic times ; and 
the sombre character of its architecture and the wild- 
ness of its surrounding scenery were calculated to im- 
press the soul with melancholy. 

The apartment, also, which was appropriated to 
Lord Londonderry was calculated to foster such a tone 
of feeling, from its antique appointments ; from the 
dark and richly carved panels of its wainscot; from 
its yawning width and height of chimney, looking like 
the open entrance to a tomb, of which the surrounding 
ornaments appeared to form the sculptures and entabla- 
ture : from the portraits of grim men and severe-eyed 
women, arrayed in orderly procession along the walls, 
and scowling a contemptuous enmity against the dege- 
nerate invader of their gloomy bowers and venerable 
halls; and from the vast, dusky, ponderous, and com- 
plicated draperies that concealed the windows, and 
hung with the gloomy grandeur of funeral trappings about 
the hearse-like piece of furniture that was destined for 
his bed. 

Lord Londonderry, on entering his apartment, might 
have received some painful depressions and misgivings 
of the mind ; surrounded by such a world of melan- 
choly images, he might perhaps feel himself more than 



THE RADIANT BOY. 163 

usually inclined to submit to the influences of super- 
stition. 

Lord Londonderry examined his chamber; he made 
himself acquainted with the forms and faces of the 
ancient possessors of the mansion, as they sat upright 
in their ebony frames to receive his salutation ; and 
then, after dismissing his valet, he retired to bed. His 
candles had not been long extinguished when he per- 
ceived a light gleaming on the draperies of the lofty 
canopy over his head. Conscious that there was no 
fire in the grate — that the curtains were closed — that 
the chamber had been in perfect darkness but a few 
moments before, he supposed that some intruder must 
have accidentally entered his apartment; and, turning 
hastily round to the side from which the light proceeded, 
saw, to his infinite astonishment, not the form of any 
human visitor, but the figure of a fair boy, who seemed 
to be garmented in rays of mild and tempered glory, 
which beamed palely from his slender form, like the 
faint light of the declining moon, and rendered the ob- 
jects which were nearest to him dimly and indistinctly 
visible. The spirit stood at some short distance from 
the side of the bed. Certain that his own faculties 
were not deceiving him, but suspecting he might be 
imposed on by the ingenuity of some of the numerous 
guests who were then visiting in the same house, Lord 
Londonderry proceeded towards the figure : — it retreated 
before him : — as he slowly advanced, the form with 
equal paces slowly retired : — it entered the gloomy arch 
of the capacious chimney, and then sunk into the 
earth. Lord Londonderry returned to his bed, but not 
to rest ; his mind was harassed by the consideration of 
the extraordinary event which had occurred to him. — 
Was it real ? — Was it the work of the imagination ?— - 



164 THE RADIANT BOY. 

Was it the result of imposture ? — It was all incompre- 
hensible. 

He resolved in the morning not to mention the ap- 
pearance till he should have well observed the manners 
and countenances of the family : he was conscious that, 
if any deception had been practised, its authors would 
be too delighted with their success to conceal the vanity 
of their triumph. When the guests assembled at the 
breakfast table, the eye of Lord Londonderry searched 
in vain for those latent smiles — those conscious looks — 
that silent communication between the parties, by 
which the authors and abettors of such domestic con- 
spiracies are generally betrayed. Every thing appa- 
rently proceeded in its ordinary course : the conversa- 
tion flowed rapidly along from the subjects afforded at 
the moment, without any of the constraint which 
marks a party intent upon some secret and more inter- 
esting argument, and endeavouring to afford an oppor- 
tunity for its introduction. 

At last the hero of the tale fouad himself compelled 
to mention the occurrence of the night : — It was most 
extraordinary : — he feared that he should not be 
credited: — and then, after all due preparation, the 
story was related. Those among his auditors who, like 
himself, were strangers and visitors in the house, were 
certain that some delusion must have been practised ; 
the family alone seemed perfectly composed and calm. 
At last, the gentleman whom Lord Londonderry was 
visiting interrupted their various surmises on the subject, 
by saying — " The circumstance ,which you have just 
recounted must naturally appear most extraordinary to 
those who have not long been inmates of my dwelling, 
and not conversant with the legends connected with my 
family; to those who are, the event which has hap- 



CONFESSION" OF JOHN BEAUMONT. 165 

pened will only serve as the corroboration of an old tra- 
dition that long has been related of the apartment in 
which you slept. You have seen the Radiant Boy — 
be content — it is an omen of prosperous fortunes. I 
would rather that this subject should no more be men- 
tioned. v 

CONFESSION OF JOHN BEAUMONT. 

Akin to GlanviFs " Sadducissimus Triumphatus," 
quoted already, in authenticity and perspicuity, is the 
celebrated " Treatise on Spirits, Apparitions, &c." 
by John Beaumont, styled the Platonic Philosopher. 
This work, like that of Glanvil, is now become very 
scarce. The edition printed in 1705 has a frontispiece 
of evil and good genii, and an original representation of 
Jews going out in the moonshine, to know their fortune. 
Beaumont was a man of acute reasoning powers, and 
indefatigable research, as his narrative and inferences 
clearly shew. Indeed, every page of his " Treatise " 
displays profound historical knowledge. His style is 
clear, argumentative, and unincumbered with quaint 
vulgarism ; and as specimens of these recommendations, 
we have occasionally introduced a few of his most inter- 
esting narratives. 

His confession is at once curious and important; as 
he seems not to reason from mere theoretical analogy, 
but from the fullest evidence of experience. 

" I would not," he says, u for the whole world un. 
dergo what I have undergone, upon spirits coming twice 
to me. Their first coming was most dreadful to me, 
the thing being then altogether new, and consequently 
more surprising ; though at the first coming they did 
not appear to me, but only called to me at my chamber 
windows, rung bells, sung to me, and played on music. 



166 CONFESSION OF JOHN BEAUMONT. 

&c. ; but the last coming was terrible ; for when 
they came, being only five in number, two women 
and three men, (though afterwards there came 
hundreds,) they told me they would kill me if I 
told any person in the house of their being there, 
which put me in some consternation ; and I made a 
servant sit up with me four nights in my chamber, be- 
fore a fire, it being in the Christmas holidays, telling 
no person that they were there. One of these spirits, in 
woman's dress, lay down upon the bed by me every 
night, and told me if I slept, the spirits would kill me ; 
which kept me waking for three nights. In the mean- 
time, a near relation of mine went (though unknown to 
me) to a physician of my acquaintance, desiring him to 
prescribe me somewhat for sleeping, which he did ; and 
a sleeping potion was brought me, but I set it by, being 
very desirous and inclined to sleep without it. 

" The fourth night I could hardly forbear sleeping, but 
the spirit, lying on the bed by me, told me again, I 
should be killed if I slept ; whereupon I rose and sate 
by the fire -side, and in a while returned to my bed ; 
and so I did a third time, but was still threatened as 
before; whereupon I grew impatient, and asked the 
spirits what they^would have,— told them T had done 
the part of a Christian, in humbling myself to God, and 
feared them not ; and rose from my bed, took a cane, 
end knocked at the ceiling of my chamber, a near rela- 
tion of mine lying then over me, who presently rose and 
came down to me about two o'clock in the morning, to 
whom I said, * You have seen me disturbed these four 
days past, and that I have not slept : the occasion of it 
was, that five spirits, which are now in the room with 
me, have threatened to kill me if I told any person of 
their being there, or if I slept; but I am not able to 



ROBERT LINDSAY, ESQ. 167 

forbear sleeping longer, and acquaint you with it, and 
now stand in defiance of them/ And thus I exerted 
myself about them; and notwithstanding their continued 
threats, I slept very well the next night, and continued 
so to do, though they continued with me above three 
months, day and night." 

ROBERT LINDSAY, ESQ. OF EDINBURGH. 

One of the most curious narratives on record is the 
following, communicated by David Laing, Esq. of 
Edinburgh, to Dr. Hibbert, and inserted by that gentle- 
man in his erudite work, entitled " The Philosophy of 
Apparitions." 

" Robert Lindsay, grandchild or great grandchild to 
Sir David Lindsay of the Mouth, Lyon- King-at- Arms, 
&c. being intimate, even disciple with A. P. they bar- 
gained, anno 1671, that whoever died first should gi\e 
account of his condition, if possible. It happened that 
he died about the end of 1675, while A. P. was at 
Paris; and the very night of his death, A. P. dreamed 
that he was at Edinburgh, w^here Lindsay attacked him 
thus : — ' Archie/ said he, ' perhaps ye heard I'm dead ? 
— ' No, Robin.' ; Ay, but they bury my body in the 
Greyfriars. I am alive, though, in a place whereof the 
pleasures cannot be expressed in Scotch, Greek, or 
Latin. I have come with a well-sailing small ship to 
Leith Road, to carry you thither/ — ' Robin, I'll go with 
you, but wait till I go to Fife and East Lothian, and 
take leave of my parents.' ' Archie, I have but the 
allowance of one tide. Farewell, I'll come for you at 
another time.' Since which time A. P. never slept a 
night without dreaming that Lindsay told him he was 
alive. And having a dargerous sickness, anno 1694, 
he was told by Robin that he was delayed for a time, 



168 APPARITION IN YORK CATHEDRAL. 

and that it was properly his task to carry him off, bu 
was discharged to tell when/' 

APPARITION SEEN BY MR. B. L. * IN YORK CATHEDRAL. 

A few years since, Mr. B. L. accompanied 
some friends on a visit to York Cathedral. The party 
was numerous, and amongst them were a gentleman and 
his two daughters. Mr. B. L. was with the eldest of 
these ladies, exploring the curiosities of the building 
rather at a distance from the rest of their companions. 
On turning from the monument to which their attention 
had been directed, an officer in a naval uniform was 
observed advancing towards them. It was rather an 
unusual circumstance to encounter a person thus ac- 
coutred in a place so far distant from the sea, and of so 
unmilitary a character. Mr. B. L. was about to 
mention the subject to his companion, when, on turning 
his eyes towards her and pointing out the approaching 
stranger to her notice, he saw an immediate paleness 
spread over her face, and her countenance became agi- 
tated by the powerful and contending emotions which 
were suddenly excited by his presence. As the stranger 
drew nearer, and his figure and features gradually 
became more distinctly visible through the evening 
gloom and the dim religious light of the cathedral, the 
lady's distress was evidently increased. 

Shocked at the oppression which he witnessed, but 
wholly ignorant of the cause — alarmed — hurried — sup- 



* In the original MS. of this story, the name was given at length ; 
but while the sheets were passing through the press, a friend of the 
party stated to the original publisher, that making public the names 
would distress the feelings of more than one individual ; for that 
reason only they are withheld. 



APPARITION IN YORK CATHEDRAL. 169 

posing her to be suffering from the paroxysm of some 
violent and sudden indisposition, Mr. B. L. called to 
entreat the assistance of her sister. The figure in the 
naval uniform was now immediately before them : the 
eyes of the lady were fixed upon him with a gaze of 
silent and motionless surprise, and a painful intensity 
of feeling ; her lips were colourless and apart, and her 
breath passed heavily from her full and overburthened 
heart. The form was close upon them : — it approached 
her side — it paused but for an instant — as quick as 
thought, a low and scarcely audible voice whispered in 
her ear — " There is a future state;" and the figure 
moved onward through the retiring aisle of the minster. 
The father of the lady now arrived to the assistance 
of his daughter, and Mr. B. L. consigning her to his 
protection, hastened in pursuit of the mysterious visi- 
tor. He searched on every side ; no such form was to 
be seen in the long perspective of the path by which 
the ill-omened stranger had departed. He listened 
with the most earnest aftentiveness ; but no sound of re- 
treating footsteps was to be heard on the echoing pave- 
ment of the cathedral. 

Baffled in his attempt to discover the object whose 
presence had thus disturbed the tranquillity of the 
time, Mr. B. L. re-sought his friends. The lady 
entreated the party to continue their examination of the 
building, and to leave her again to the protection of her 
former companion. The request was granted ; and no 
sooner had she thus possessed herself of an opportunity 
of confidential communication, than she implored him, 
with a quick and agitated voice, to conceal for a little 
while the occurrence of which he had been a witness. 
' We shall never be believed ; besides, it were right 
that my poor dear father should be gradually prepared 



170 Apparition in york cathedral. 

for the misery that he is destined to undergo. I have 
seen the spirit, and I have heard the voice of a brother, 
who exists no longer ; he has perished at sea. We 
had agreed that the one who died the first should re- 
appear to the survivor, if it were possible, to clear up 
or to confirm the religious doubts which existed in both 
our minds/' 

In due time the account of the event arrived to verify 
the spiritual intimation; the .brother was indeed no 
more. His death had happened on the very day and 
hour in which his form was seen by Mr. B. L. and his 
sister, in the north aisle of York cathedral. 

The preceding narrative exhibits no symptoms of a 
hurried or heated imagination; but on the contrary, 
is at once cool, collected, and circumstantially perspi- 
cuous; so as to set the question of probability almost 
entirely at rest. 



Aubrey in his Miscellanies^ narrates the following 
awful admonition of a departed friend, to a surviving 
friend : — 

Two ladies of fortune, both not being long since deceased, 
were intimate acquaintance, and loved each other sincerely. 
It so fell out, that one of them fell sick of the small-pox, and 
desired mightily to see the other, who would not come, 
fearing the catching the distemper ; the afflicted lady at last 
died of them. She had not been buried long, before she 
appeared at the other's house in the dress of a widow, and 
asked for her friend, who was then at cards ; she sends 
down her woman to know her business, the answer was that, 
she must impart it to none but her lady, who, after she had 
received this message bid her woman introduce her into a 
room, and desire her to stay till the game was done, and she 
would then wait on her. The game being finished, she 
went down stairs to the apparition, to know her business, 



EDWARD CAVE, AND PENDERGAST. 171 

* Madam," (said the ghost, turning up her veil, and her face 
appearing full of the small-pox) " you know very well, that 
you and I loved entirely. Though I took it very ill of you 
that you was not so kind as to come and see me, yet I could 
not rest till I had seen you. Believe me, my dear, I am not 
come to frighten you ; but only out of regard to your eternal 
happiness, to forewarn you of your approaching end, which 
I am sorry to say will be very miserable, if you do not 
prepare for it, you have led a very unthinking giddy life many 
years, I cannot stay, I am going ; my time is just spent ; 
prepare to die; and remember this, that when you make the 
thirtieth at a ball, you have but a few days to live." She 
then vanished. To conclude, she was at a ball where she 
made the thirtieth in number ; and was afterwards asked by 
the brother of the deceased, whether his sister did appear 
to her as was reported ; she made him no answer, but fell 
a weeping, and died in a little time after. 

APPARITIONS RECORDED IN BOSWELl/S LIFE OF JOHNSON. 

Talking of ghosts, Dr. Johnson said he knew one 
friend, who was an honest man, who had told him he 
had seen a ghost,; old Mr. Edward Cave, the printer, 
at St. John's Gate. He said Mr. Cave did not like to 
talk of it, and seemed to be in great horror whenever it 
was mentioned. Boswell said, " Pray, sir, what did 
he say was the appearance/' Johnson. — ;c Why, sir, 
something of a shadowy being." Goldsmith told us he 
was assured by his brother that he also had seen one. 
General Oglethorpe told us that Pendergast, an officer in 
the Duke of Marlborough's army, had mentioned to 
many of his friends that he should die on a particular 
day ; that upon that day a battle took place with the 
French ; that, after it was over, and Pendergast was 
still alive, his brother officers, while they were yet in 
the field, jestingly asked him where was his prophecy 
i2 



172 



PARSON FORD. 



now ? Pendergast gravely answered, " I shall die, 
notwithstanding what you see." Soon afterwards there 
came a shot from a French battery, to which the orders 
for a cessation of arms had not reached, and he was 
killed upon the spot. Colonel Cecil, who took pos- 
session of his effects, found in his pocket-book the fol- 
lowing solemn entry : — (here the date) " Dreamt or 
was told by an apparition Sir John Friend meets me" — 
(here the very day on which he was killed was men- 
tioned). Pendergast had been connected with Sir 
John Friend, who was executed for high treason. Ge- 
neral Oglethorpe said he was with Colonel Cecil when 
Pope came and inquired into the truth of this story, 
which made a great noise at the time, and was then 
confirmed by the colonel. Boswell. — " Was there not a 
story of the ghost of Parson Ford having appeared }" 
Johnson.—" Sir, it was believed. A waiter at the 
Hummums, in which Ford died, had been absent for 
some time, and returned, not knowing Ford was 
dead ; going down to the cellar, according to the story, 
he met him ; going down again, he met him a second 
time. When he came up, he asked some of the people 
of the house what Ford could be doing there ? They 
told him Ford was dead. The waiter took a fever in 
which he lay some time ; when he recovered, he said 
he had a message to deliver to some women from Ford, 
but he was not to tell what, or to whom. He walked 
out'; he was followed, but somewhere about St. Paul's 
they lost him ; he came back, and said he had delivered 
the message, and the women exclaimed, ' Then we 
are all undone !' Dr. Pellet, who was not a credulous 
man, inquired into the truth of this story, and said the 
evidence was irresistible. My wife went to the Hum- 
mums (it is a place where people get themselves cupped) 



ANN TAYLOR OF TIVERTON. 173 

I believe she went with the intention to hear about 
this story of Ford. At first they were, unwilling to 
tell her ; but, after they had talked to her, she came 
away satisfied that it was true. To be sure the man 
had a fever, and this vision may have been the begin- 
ning of it ; but, if the message to the women and their 
behaviour upon it were true, as related, there was some- 
thing supernatural ; that rests upon his word and there 
it remains. u 

ANN TAYLOR OF TIVERTON. 

The case of this unfortunate girl excited consider- 
able interest throughout the whole of the west -of 
England, in the year 1814. She was the daughter of 
a respectable yeoman, living in the parish of Tiverton ; 
and being ill, she lay six days in a state of insensibility, 
to all appearance dead, doubtless one of those cases 
cf suspended animation, of which there have been 
many instances : — during her lying in this state she had 
a dream, whieh the family called a trance, the printed 
account of which they widely circulated. Her request, on 
awaking from her trance, and the extraordinary 
circumstances which happened after her decease, are 
thus related by her father : — 

M When she recovered from her stupor, she requested some 
one would write down all she had to unfold, and I charged 
the person who did it, as she might be put on her oath, 
not to add or diminish a word, nor to ask her a question, 
which I know was duly attended to. Then she earnestly re- 
quested all might be printed, and desired I would get it done ; 
I endeavoured to evade it by putting some papers in the room, 
merely to satisfy her mind, but she soon discovered it was not 
the thing ; she then said if it were not printed, my 6ins would 
never be forgiven : as she continued urging me to it, I went 
for that purpose the next day, and even went so far as the 



174 LADY FENNYMAN AND MRS. ATKINS, 

printer's door, but was ashamed to go in* as I was CGfi* 
vinced the world would ridicule it ; I returned to my home, 
and she renewing her inquiries, I told her it was not yet 
done, but that it should; she replied, but too late. The 
next day notwithstanding it was Sunday, I was obliged to go 
and request that some might be printed early the following 
morning. I returned and told her, but she again said it will 
be too late. She died the same evening at seven o'clock. 
The next morning her voice was distinctly and repeatedly 
heard (in a shrill tone) by the person who wrote the relation, 
making her former inquiry. Between ten and twelve, the 
men came to put her in the coffuu a "d when performed, the 
whole family assembled to dinner, but wonderful to relate, 
her voice was again heard, saying, * Father it is not printed/ 
Had I been alone, I should have considered it was my agitated 
mind that deceived me, but all present heard it, and the men 
became as if they were thunderstruck." 

This was heard and solemnly attested by no less than 
six witnesses, all of whom concurred in one testimony, 
and were considered as persons of veracity. 

After her death, a sermon was preached by a dissent* 
ing minister named Vowles, at Steps Meeting, Tiverton, 
in which much presumption and high-toned dogma- 
tism were adduced, to prove the fraud of the whole 
story. Mr. Vowles's sermon obtained considerable cir- 
culation, and two large editions were sold ; but it is a 
question whether the high authorities adduced by him 
as having credited supernatural voices, &c, did not 
tend to support the theory in a stronger proportion, 
than his arguments were calculated to counteract it. 

APPARITION SEEN BY LADY PENNYMAN AND MRS. ATKINS. 

At the commencement of the French revolution, 
Lady Pennyman and her two daughters retired to X4sle* 



LADY PENNYMAN AND MRS. ATKINS. 175 

where they hired a large and handsome house at a 
trifling rent. During their residence here, the lady 
received from her husband^ Sir John Pennyman, a draft 
for a considerable sum, which she carried to the banker 
of the town, and requested to have cashed. The man, 
as is often the case on the continent, gave her a large 
portion of silver in exchange. As Lady Pennyman 
was proceeding to pay some visits, she requested that 
the banker would send the money to her house, of 
which she described the situation. The parcel was 
instantly committed to the care of a porter; and, on 
the lady's enquiring of him whether he understood, 
from her directions, the place to which his charge was 
to be conveyed, the man replied that be was perfectly 
aware of the place designated, and that it was called 
the u Haunted House." The latter part of this answer 
was addressed to the banker in a low tone of voice, but 
was overheard by Lady Pennyman : she paid, however, 
no attention to the words, and naturally supposed that 
the report connected with her habitation was one of 
those which are raised by the imagination of the igno- 
rant respecting every dwelling which is long untenanted, 
or remarkable for its antiquity. 

A few weeks afterwards, the words were recalled to 
her recollection in a manner that surprised her : the 
housekeeper, with many apologies for being obliged to 
mention any thing that might appear so idle and absurd, 
came to the apartment in which her mistress was sitting : 
and said that two of the servants, who had accom- 
panied her ladyship from England, had that morning 
given warning, and expressed a determination of quitting 
her ladyship's service, on account of the mysterious 
noises by which they had been, night after night, dis- 
turbed and terrified. " I trust, Carter," replied Lady 



176 LADY PENNYMAN AND MRS. ATKINS. 

Pennyman, " that you have too much good sense to be 
alarmed on your own account by any of these supersti- 
tious and visionary fears ; and pray exert yourself in 
endeavouring to tranquillize the apprehension of others, 
and persuading tbem to continue in their places." The 
persuasion of Carter was ineffectual : the servants in- 
sisted that the noises which had alarmed them were 
not the operation of any earthly beings, and persevered 
in their resolution of returning to their native country. 

The room from which the sounds were supposed to 
have proceeded was at a distance from Lady Penny- 
man's apartments, and immediately over those which 
were occupied by the two female servants, who had 
themselves been terrified by them, and whose report had 
spread a general panic through the rest of the family. 
To quiet the alarm, Lady Pennyman resolved on leav- 
ing her own chamber for a time, and establishing herself 
in the one which had been lately occupied by the 
domestics. 

The room above was a long spacious apartment, 
which appeared to have been for a length of time de- 
serted. In the centre of the chamber was a large iron 
cage : it was an extraordinary piece of furniture to find 
in any mansion, but the legend which the servants had 
collected respecting it appeared to be still more extraor- 
dinary : it was said that a late proprietor of the house, 
a young man of enormous property, had in his minority 
been confined in that apartment by his uncle and guar- 
dian, and there hastened to a premature death by the 
privations and cruelties to which he was exposed : those 
cruelties had been practised under the pretence of neces- 
sary correction. The savage purpose of murdering the 
boy, under the pretence of a strict attention to his in- 
terest or his improvement, was successful: the lad was 



LADY PEXNYMAN AND MRS. ATKINS. 177 

declared to be incorrigible : there was a feigned neces- 
sity of the severest correction : he was sentenced to two 
days' captivity and privation. On his uncle's arriving, 
with the show of an hypocritical leniency, an hour 
previous to the appointed time, to deliver him from the 
residue of his punishment, it was found that death had 
anticipated the false mercy, and had for ever emanci- 
pated the innocent sufferer from the hands of the op- 
pressor. 

The wealth was won: but it was an unprofitable 
acquisition. His conscience haunted him : the form of 
the dead and inoffensive boy was constantly before him. 
His dreams represented to his view the playful and 
beautiful looks that won all eyes towards him : while 
his parents were yet alive to cheer and to delight him : 
and then the vision of his sleep would change : and he 
would see his calm suffering and his silent tears, and 
his patient endurance and his indefatigable exertions in 
attempting the accomplishment of difficult exactions, 
and his pale cheek, and his wasted limbs, and' his 
spiritless countenance ^ and then, at last, there was the 
rigid, bony, and distorted form, the glazed open eye, 
the mouth violently compressed^ and the clenched 
hands, on which his view had rested for a moment, 
when all his wicked hopes had attained their most 
sanguine consummation, as he surveyed the corpse of 
murdered relatives. These recollections banished him 
from his home, the mansion was left tenantless; and, 
till Lad\ Pennyman had inadvertently engaged it, all had 
dreaded to become the inmates of a dwelling which had 
been fatal to one possessor, and shunned as destructive 
to the tranquillity of his heir. 

On the first night or two of Lady Pennyman's being 
established in her new apartment, she met with no in- 

13 



J 78 LADY PfiNNTMAW AND" MRS. Afitim 

terruption ; nor was her sleep in the least disturbed bf 
any of those mysterious noises in the Cage Chamber 
(for so it was commonly called in the family) which she 
had been induced to expect by the representations of the 
departed servants. This quiet, however, was of very 
short duration ; one night she was awakened from her 
sleep by the sound of a slow and measured step, that 
appeared to be pacing the chamber overhead ; it con- 
tinued to move backwards and forwards with nearly the 
same constant and regular motion for rather more than 
an hour— perhaps Lady Pennyman's agitation might 
have deceived her, and induced her to think the time 
longer than it really was. It at length ceased : morn 
dawned upon her, and she went down to breakfast, after 
framing a resolution not to mention the event. 

Lady Pennyman and her daughters had nearly com- 
pleted their breakfast before her son, a young man who 
had lately returned from sea, descended from his apart- 
ment. " My dear Charles/' said his mother, " I won- 
der you are not ashamed of your indolence and your 
want of gallantry, to suffer your sisters and myself to 
finish breakfast before you are ready to join us. 1 ' " In- 
deed, madam/' he replied, " it is not my fault if I am 
late: I have not had any sleep all night. There have 
been people knocking at my door and peeping into my 
room every half hour since I went up stairs to bed : I 
presume they wanted to see if my candle was extin- 
guished. If this be the case, it is really very distress- 
ing ; as I certainly never gave you any occasion to sus- 
pect I should be careless in taking so necessary a pre- 
caution ; and it is not pleasant to be represented in such 
a light to the domestics." — " Indeed, my dear, the in- 
terruption has taken place entirely without my know- 
ledge. I assure you it is not by any order of mine that 



(T 



LADY PENNYMAN AND MRS. ATKINS. 1T9 

your room has been looked into : I cannot think what 
could induce any servant of mine to be guilty of such 
a liberty. Are you certain that you have not mistaken 
the nature and origin of the sound by which your sleep 
has been disturbed ?" — " Oh, no; there could have 
been no mistake : I was perfectly awake when the inter- 
ruption first took place, and afterwards it was so fre- 
quently repeated as to prevent the possibility of my 
sleeping." 

More complaints from the housekeeper ; no servant 
would remain ; every individual of the family had his 
tale of terror to increase the apprehensions of the rest ; 
Lady Pennyman began to be herself alarmed. Mrs. 
Atkins, a woman devoid of every kind of superstitious 
fear, and of tried courage, understanding, and resolu- 
tion, determined at once to silence all the stories that 
had been fabricated respecting the Cage Room, and to 
allay their terrors by adopting that apartment for her 
own bedchamber during the remainder of her residence 
at Lisle. A bed was accordingly placed in the apart- 
ment. The Cage Room was rendered as comfortable as 
possible on so short a notice ; and Mrs. Atkins retired 
to rest, attended by her favourite spaniel. 

Mrs. Atkins now examined her chamber in every 
direction : she sounded every pannel of the wainscot, 
to prove that there was no hollowness, which might 
argue a concealed passage ; and, having bolted the door 
of the Cage Room, retired to rest. Her assurance was 
doomed to be shortlived : she had only been a few 
minutes asleep when her dog, which lay by the bedside, 
leaped, howling and terrified, upon the bed ; the door 
of the chamber slowly opened, and a pale, thin, sickly 
youth came in cas his eyes mildly towards her, walked 



180 LADY PENNYMAN AND MRS. ATKINS. 

up to the iron cage in the middle of the room, and then 
leaned in the melancholy attitude of one revolving in 
his mind the sorrows of a cheerless and unblest exist- 
ence ; after a while he again withdrew, and retired by 
the way he entered. 

Mrs. Atkins, on witnessing his departure, felt the 
return of her resolution; she persuaded herself to be- 
lieve the figure the work of some skilful impostor, 
and she determined on following its footsteps: she took 
up her chamber lamp, and hastened to put her design 
in execution. On reaching the door, to her infinite 
surprise, she discovered it to be fastened, as she had 
herself left it, on retiring to her bed. On withdraw- 
ing the bolt and opening the door, she saw the back of 
the youth descending the staircase ; she followed, till, 
on reaching the foot of the stairs, the form appeared to 
sink into the earth. It was in vain to attempt conceal- 
ing the occurrences of the night : her voice, her man- 
ner, the impossibility of sleeping a second time in the 
ill omen chamber would necessarily betray that some- 
thing of a painful and mysterious nature had occurred. 

The event was related to Lady Pennyman : she 
determined to remain no longer in her present habita- 
tion. The man of whom the house had been engaged 
was spoken to , on the subject : he became ex- 
tremely violent — said it was no time for the English 
to indulge their imaginations — insinuated something 
of the guillotine — and bade her, at her peril, drop a 
single expression to the injury of his property. While 
she remained in France, not a word was uttered upon the 
subject ; she framed an excuse for her abrupt departure : 
another residence was offered in the vicinity of Lisle, - 
which she engaged, on the pretext of its being better 



THE MIDNIGHT STORM. 181 

calculated to the size of her family ; and at once re- 
linquished her habitation, and with it every preternatu- 
ral occasion of anxiety. 

Although the preceding story "smells of the cloister," 
is somewhat tinctured with romance, and has been 
enlarged upon by successive narrators, the facts are au- 
thenticated and accredited by the parties to whom they 
occurred. An old deserted house at Lisle would pro- 
bably be an object of terror to weak minds, but not to the 
understandings of the well educated heads of a family, as 
well as to the several members of a large establishment. 

THE MIDNIGHT STORM. 

(From the French.) 

— — u Of shapes that walk 
At dead of night, and clank their chains, and wave 
The torch of hell around the murderer's bed." 

Pleasures of Imagination* 

On the evening of the 12th June, , a joyous 

party was assembled at Monsieur de Montbrun's chateau 
to celebrate the marriage of his nephew, who had, in 
the morn of that day, led to the altar the long-sought 
object of his fond attachment. The mansion, which 
was on this occasion the scene of merriment, was situ- 
ated in the province of Gascony, at no very great distance 
from the town of . 

It was a venerable building, erected during the war 
of the League, and consequently discovered in its ex- 
terior some traces of that species of architecture which 
endeavoured to unite strength and massiveness with do- 
mestic comfort. Situated in a romantic, but thinly- 
peopled district, the family of Monsieur de Montbrun 
was compelled principally to rely on itself for amusement 
and society. This family consisted of the chevalier, 
an old soldier of blunt but hospitable manners ; his 



182 THE MIDNIGHT STORM. 

nephew, the bridegroom, whom (having no male 
children) he had adopted as his son, and Mademoiselle 
Emily, his only daughter : the latter was amiable, frank, 
and generous ; warm in her attachments, but rather ro- 
mantic in forming them. Employed in rural sports and 
occupations, and particularly attached to botany, for 
which the country around afforded an inexhaustible 
field, the chevalier and his inmates had not much culti- 
vated the intimacy of the few families which disgust of 
the world, or other motives, had planted in this retired 
spot. Occasional visits, exchanged with the nearest of 
their neighbours, sometimes enlivened their small circle; 
and with the greater part of those who lived at a 
distance, they were scarcely acquainted even by name. 

The approaching nuptials, however, of Theodore, 
(which was the name of Monsieur de Montbrun's adopt- 
ed son) excited considerable conversation in the adjacent 
district : and the wedding of her cousin, it was deter- 
mined by Emily, should not pass off unaccompanied by 
every festivity which the nature of their situation, and 
the joyfulness of the event, would allow. On this oc- 
casion, therefore, inquiries were made as to all the 
neighbouring gentry within a considerable distance 
around ; and there were none of the least note neglected 
in the invitations, which were scattered in all directions. 
Many persons were consequently present, with whose 
persons and character the host and his family were un- 
acquainted : some also accepted the summons, who were 
strangers to them even by name. 

Emily was attentive and courteous to all; but to one 
lady in particular she attached herself during the enter- 
tainment with most sedulous regard. Madame de Nunez, 
the immediate object of Emily's care, had lately settled 
in the neighbourhood, and had hitherto studied to shun 



THE MIDNIGHT STORM. 183 

I 

society. It was supposed that she was the widow of a 
Spanish officer of the Walloon guards, to whom she had 
been fondly attached ; indeed so much so, that, not- 
withstanding he had been dead several years, the lady 
never appeared but in deep mourning. She had 
only lately settled in Gascony ; but her motives for re- 
tiring from Spain, and fixing on the French side of the 
Pyrenees, were not known, and but slightly conjectured^ 
Isabella de Nunez was about twenty-eight years of age, 
tall and well-formed : her countenance was striking, nay 
even handsome ; but a nice physiognomist would have 
traced in her features evidence of the stronger passions 
of human nature. He would have seen pride softened 
by distress; and would have fancied, at times, that the 
effects of some concealed crime were still evident in her 
knit brow and retiring eye, when she became the object 
of marked scrutiny. 

She had never before entered the chateau de Mont- 
brun, and her person had hitherto been unnoticed by 
Emily ; but who, having now seen her, devoted herself 
with ardour to her new friend. The lady received the 
attentions of her amiable hostess with grateful but digni- 
fied reserve. 

The morning had been extremely sultry, and an op- 
pressive sensation in the air, which disordered respi- 
ration threw, as the day closed, an air of gloom over 
the company, ill suited to the occasion of their meeting. 
Madame de Nunez appeared, more than any one else, 
to feel the effects of the lurid atmosphere ; the occasional 
sparks of gaiety which she had discovered, gradually 
disappeared ; and before the day had entirely closed she 
seemed at times perfectly abstracted, and at other times 
to start with causeless apprehension. In order to divert 
or dispel this increasing uneasiness, which threatened to 



184 ' THE MIDNIGHT STORM. 

destroy all the pleasure of the festival, dancing was pro- 
posed; and the enlivening sounds of the music in a 
short time dissipated the temporary gloom. The danc- 
ing had not however long continued, ere the expected' 
storm burst in all its fury on the cli&teau : the thunder, 
with its continued roar, reverberated by the adjoining 
mountains, caused the utmost alarm in the bosom of the 
fair visitors; the torrents of rain which fell, might almost 
be said to swell the waters of the neighbouring Garonne, 
whilst sheets of lightning, reflected on its broad waves, 
gave a deeper horror to the pitchy darkness which suc- 
ceeded. The continuance of the storm gradually wound 
up the apprehensions of the greater part of the females 
to horror; and they took refuge in the arched vaults 
and long subterranean passages which branched beneath 
the chdteau, from the vivid glare of the lightning ; al- 
though unable to shut their ears to the reiterated claps 
of thunder which threatened to shake the building to its 
foundations. 

In this general scene of horror, Isabella alone ap- 
peared unappalled. The alternate abstraction and 
alarm, which before seemed to harass her mind, had 
now vanished, and had given place to a character of 
resignation which might almost be considered as border- 
ing on apathy. While the younger females yielded 
without resistance to the increasing horrors of the tem- 
pest, and by frequent shrieks and exclamations of dread 
bore testimony to the terror excited in their bosoms by 
the aggravated circumstances of the scene, she suffered 
no symptom of apprehension to be visible in her now 
unvarying features. Agitation had yielded to quiet : 
she sat ostensibly placid ; but her apparent inattention 
was evidently not the effect of tranquillity, but the result 
of persevering exertion. 



THE MIDNIGHT STORM. 185 

The hour was approaching towards midnight; and 
the storm, instead of blowing over, having increased in 
violence, the hospitable owner of the mansion proposed 
to his guests, that they should abandon the idea of re- 
turning home through the torrents of rain, which had 
already deluged the country, and rendered the roads 
in the vicinity impassable ; but should accommodate 
themselves, with as little difficulty as possible, to the 
only plan now to be devised, — of making themselves 
easy during the remainder of this dismal night. Although 
his mansion was not extensive, yet he proposed (with 
the aid of temporary couches, and putting the ladies to 
the inconvenience of sleeping two in each room) to 
render the party as comfortable as his means would 
allow ; and which would, at all events, be more agree- 
able than braving abroad the horrors of the tempest. 

Reasonable as such a plan was in itself, it was still 
more strongly recommended by the circumstance, that 
the carriages which were expected to convey the parties 
to their respective abodes had not arrived ; and from the 
state of the roads, and the continuance of the still pitiless 
storm, it seemed visionary to expect them. 

The party, therefore, yielded without regret to the 
offered arrangement, save with one dissenting voice. 
The fair Spaniard alone positively declined the offered 
accommodation. Argument in vain was used for a con- 
siderable space of time to detain her; she positively in- 
sisted on returning home : and would alone in the dark 
have faced the storm, had not an obstacle which appeared 
invincible, militated against her resolve ; this was too 
imperious to be resisted — her carriage and servants were 
not arrived ; and from the representation of Monsieur de 
Montbrun's domestics (some of whom had been detached 
to examine the condition of the neighbouring roads,) it 



186 THE MIDNIGHT STORM. 

was perfectly clear, that with that part of the district in 
which she resided, no communication could for several 
hours take place. Madame de Nunez, therefore, at 
length yielded to necessity ; although the pertinacity of 
her resistance had already excited much surprise, and 
called forth innumerable conjectures. 

The arrangements between the respective parties were 
soon made, and the greater part of the ladies gladly 
retired to seek repose from the harassing events of the 
day. Emily, who had not relaxed in her marked atten- 
tion to her interesting friend, warmly pressed her to 
share her own room, in which a sofa had been pre- 
pared as a couch, and to which she herself insisted on 
retiring, while Madame de Nunez should take possession 
of the bed. The latter, however, again strenuously ob- 
jected to this plan, asserting, that she should prefer re- 
maining all night in one of the sitting-rooms, with no 
other companion than a book. She appeared obstinately 
to adhere to this resolution, until Emily politely, yet 
positively, declared, that were such the intention of her 
new friend, she would also join her in the saloon, and 
pass the time in conversation until the day should break, 
or until Madame's servants should arrive. This propo- 
sition, or rather determination, was received by the 
frowning Isabella with an air of visible chagrin and 
disappointment, not altogether polite. She express- 
ed her unwillingness that Mademoiselle should be 
inconvenienced, with some peevishness ; but which, 
however, soon gave place to her former air of good- 
breeding. 

She now appeared anxious to hurry to her room ; and 
the rest of the party having some time retired, she was 
escorted thither by the ever attentive Emily. No sooner 
had they reached the chamber, than Isabella sunk into 



THE MIDNIGHT STOHM. 187 

a chair ; and after struggling for some time in evident 
emotion for utterance, at length exclaimed : — 

•' Why, dearest Emily, would you insist on sharing 
with me the horrors of this night ? To me the punish- 
ment is a merited one : but to you M 

"What, my dearest madam, do you say?" replied 
Emily affectionately — " The terrors of the night are 
over, the thunder appears retiring, and the lightning is 
less vivid ; and see in the west (added she, as she went 
to the window) there are still some remains of the sum- 
mer twilight. Do not any longer, then, suffer the ap- 
prehensions of the storm which has passed over us 5 to 
disturb the repose which you will, I hope, so shortly 
crijoy.^ 

" Talk you of repose V said Madame de Nunez, in 
a voice almost choaked with agitation — " Know you 
not, then, that on the anniversary of this horrid night ? 

but what am I saying ! — to you, at present, all this 

is mystery ; too soon your own feelings will add con- 
viction to the terrible experience which six revolving 
years have afforded me, and which, even now but to 
think on, harrows up my soul. — But no more — " 

Then darting suddenly towards the door, which had 
hitherto remained a-jar, she closed it with violence; and 
locking it, withdrew the key, which she placed in her 
own pocket. — Emily had scarcely time to express her 
surprise at this action and the apparent distraction which 
accompanied it, ere Madame de Nunez seized both her 
hands with more than female strength, and with a 
maddened voice and eye straining on vacancy, exclaim- 
ed :— 

" Bear witness, ye powers of terror ! that I imposed 
not this dreadful scene on the female whose oath must 
now secure her silence." 



188 THE MIDNIGHT STORM. 

Then staring wildly on Mademoiselle de JVjfcritbrun, 
she continued : — 1 

" Why, foolish girl, 4 JWouldst thou insist olrlny par- 
taking thy bed ? the viper might have coij^-'in thy 
bosom ; the midnight assassin might have aimed his 
dagger at thy breast — but the poison of the one would 
have been less fatal, and the apprehension of instant 
annihilation from the other would have been less op- 
pressive, than the harrowing scene which thou art 
doomed this night to witness — doomed, I say ; for all 
the powers of hell, whose orgies you must behold, can- 
not release you from the spectacle which you have 
voluntarily sought." 

"To what am I doomed !" cried Emily, whose fears 
for herself were lessened in the dread she felt for her 
friend's intellects, which she supposed were suddenly 
become affected by illness, or from the incidents of the 
past day. 

Isabella, after a silence of several minutes, during 
which she endeavoured to recover some degree of com- 
posure, in a softened but determined voice, said : — 

" Think not, my friend, (if I may use that endearing 
expression to one whose early prospects and happier 
days I am unwillingly condemned to blast,) that disorder 
has produced the agitation which, spite of myself, you 
have witnessed. — Alas ! great as have been my sorrows, 
and heavy as my crime weighs on me, my reason has 
still preserved its throne : to seek oblivion in idiotcy ; to 
bury the remembrance of my fatal error in temporary 
derangement; would, I might almost say, be happiness 
to me. But fate has forbidden such an alleviation, and 
my impending destiny which is not to be guarded against 
by precaution, cannot be avoided by repentance/' 

" Nay," said Emily, " exaggerated as your self-cou- 



THE MIDXIGHT STORM. 189 

demnation makes the fault to which you allude appear, 
in religion you may find a solace which could efface 
crimes of much deeper dye thai! any with which you 
can possibly charge yourself." 

" Ah! no," replied the fair Spaniard. — " Religion, 
it is true, holds out her benignant hand to receive the 
wandering sinner ; — she offers to the stranger a home ; 
she welcomes to her bosom the repentant though blood- 
stained criminal ; — but for crimes like mine, what peni- 
tence can atone ? — But we waste time/' added she ; 
the **■ midnight hour approaches; and ere the clock in 
the turret first anounces that dreaded period, much must 
be done." 

Thus saying, she went into the adjoining oratory, and 
finding on the little altar at which Emily offered her 
daily orisons, an ivory crucifix, she returned with it in 
her hand ; and again seizing and forcibly grasping the 
hand of her now really alarmed hostess, she exclaimed 
in a hollow, yet determined voice : — 

" Swear, that whatsoever you may this night, this 
eventful night, be a witness to, not all the apprehension? 
of hell, not all your hopes of heaven, shall tempt you to 
reveal, until I am committed to the silent tomb — 
Swear !" 

Emily for a moment hesitated to adopt an oath im- 
posed under circumstances of such an extraordinary 
nature : but whilst she was debating, Madame de Nunez, 
more violently grasping her hand, exclaimed, in a voice 
harsh from agitation : — 

*• Swear; or dread the event !" 

st Swear!" Emily fancied she heard echoed from the 
oratory. Almost sinking with horror, she faintly re- 
peated the solemn oath, which the frantic female, whose 



190 THE MIDNIGHT STORM. 

character appeared so perfectly changed, dictated 
to her. 

She had no sooner thus solemnly bound herself to 
silence, than Madame de Nunez's agitation appeared to 
subside; she replaced the crucifix on the altar, and 
sinking on her knees before the chair in which Emily, 
almost void of animation, was seated, she feebly ex- 
claimed : — 

" Pardon, dearest Emily, the madness of my con- 
duct; necessity has dictated it towards you; and your 
wayward fate, and not your suffering friend, is answer- 
able for it. For six long years have I confined to my 
own bosom the horrors which we this night must jointly 
witness. On the anniversary of this day — But I dare 
not yet communicate the dreadful event ; some hours 
hence I may recover composure to relate it : but remem- 
ber your oath; While I live, the secret is buried in 
your bosom. You must have remarked my unwilling- 
ness to remain in your dwelling ; you could not have 
been inattentive to my repugnance to share your room 
—too soon you will have a dreadful explanation of the 
cause. Be not angry with me — I must endeavour to 
conceal the circumstances which appal my soul : I must 
still preserve the respect of society, although I have for 
ever forfeited my own — hence the oath I have imposed 
on you. But — " 

Here further conversation was interrupted by the 
sound of the turret clock, which began to strike the hour 
of midnight. It had scarcely finished, ere the slow roll- 
ing of a carriage was heard in the paved court-yard ; 
at the noise of which, Madame de Nunez started from 
the posture in which she had continued at the feet of 
Emily, and rushed towards the door, which she had 



THE MIDNIGHT STORM. 191 

previously locked. Emily now heard heavy footsteps 
ascending the oaken stair-case; and before she could 
recal her recollection, which so singular a circumstance 
had bewildered, the door of the room in which they 
were sitting, spite of its fastening, slowly moved on its 
hinges ; and in the next minute Emily sunk on the 
earth in a state of stupefaction. 

Il is well for the human frame, that when assailed by 
circumstances too powerful to support, it seeks shelter in 
oblivion. The mind recoils from the horrors which it 
cannot meet, and is driven into insensibility. 

At an early hour of the ensuing morning Madame de 
Nunez quitted Monsieur deMontbrun's chateau, accom- 
panied by her servants, whom the retiring torrents had 
permitted to await their mistress's commands. She took 
a hasty farewell of the master of the mansion, and 
without making any inquiries as to the rest of the party, 
departed . 

At the usual hour of breakfast, Emily did not appear; 
and her father at length went to her room door, and re- 
ceiving no answer to his inquiries, went in. Judge his hor- 
ror, when he discovered his daughter lying on the bed in 
the clothes she had worn the preceding day, but in a state 
of apparent insensibility. Immediate medical assistance 
was procured, and she at length discovered symptoms of 
returning life ; but no sooner had she recovered her recol- 
lection, than, looking with horror and affright around her, 
she again relapsed into a state of inanimation. Repeated 
cordials being administered, she was again restored to 
life ; but only to become the victim of a brain-fever, 
which in a few days put a period to her existence. In 
a short interval of recollection, in the early part of 
illness, she confided what we have here related to 
her father; but conscientiously kept from bis knowledge 



192 THE HAMPSHIRE CURATE. 

what she was bound by her oath to conceal. The very 
remembrance of what she had witnessed on that fatal 
night, harried her into delirium, and she fell a victim to 
the force of recollection. 

Madame de Nunez did not long survive her; but ex- 
pired under circumstances of unexampled horror. 

APPARITION SEEN BY MR. WALKER, CURATE OP WAR- 
SLINGTON, IN HAMPSHIRE. 

The following letter from Mr. Caswell the mathe- 
matician, was found among Dr. Bentley's papers : — 

* Sir, — When I was in London, April last, I fully intended 
to have waited upon you again, as I said, but cold and lame- 
ness seized me next day ; the cold took away my voice, and 
the other my power of walking ; so I presently took coach for 
Oxford. I am much your debtor; and in particular for your 
good intentions in relation to Mr. D. though that, as it has 
proved, would not have turned to my advantage : however, I 
am obliged to you upon that and other accounts, and if I had 
opportunity to show it, you should find how much I am your 
faithful servant. I have sent you enclosed a relation of an 
apparition. The story I had from two persons, who each had 
it from the author, and yet their accounts somewhat varied, 
and passing through more mouths, has varied still more. 
Therefore I got a friend to bring me to the author's, at a 
chamber, where I wrote it down from the author's mouth, 
after which I read it to him, and gave him another copy. He 
said he could swear to the truth of it, as far as he is concerned. 
He is curate of Warblington, bachelor of arts of Trinity Col- 
lege in Oxford, about six years standing in the university. I 
hear no ill report of his behaviour here ; he is now gone to 
his curacy. He has promised to send up the accounts of the 
tenant and his man, who is a smith by trade, and the 
farmer's men, as far as they are concerned. Mr. Brinton, 
the rector, would have him say nothing of the story; for 
that he can get no tenant, although he has offered the 
house for ten pounds a year less. Mr. P. the foimer in- 



THE HAMPSHIRE CURATE. 193 

eumbent, whom the apparition represented, was a man of 
a very ill report, supposed to have seduced his servant- 
maid, and to have murdered the offspring; but I advised 
the curate to say nothing himself of this last part of P. but 
leave that to the parishioners who knew him. Those who 
knew this P. say he had exactly such a gown, and that he 
used to whistle. Yours, 

" J. Caswell." 

Upon this letter is founded the following circumstan- 
tial and perspicuous narrative: — 

At Warbhngton, near Havant, in Hampshire, within 
six miles of Portsmouth, in the parsonage-house, dwelt 
Thomas Perse, the tenant, with his wife and a child, a 
man servant, Thomas, and a maid servant; About the 
beginning of August, 169£, on a Monday, about nine 
or ten at night, all being in bed except the maid with 
the child, the maid being in the kitchen and having 
raked up the fire, took a candle in one hand and the 
child in the other arm, and turning about, saw one in a 
black gown walk through the room, and thence out of 
the door into the orchard. Upon this, the maid cried 
out ; when the master and mistress ran down stairs, found 
the candle in her hand, while she grasped the child round 
the neck with the other arm : she told them the reason of 
her crying out. * She would not sleep that night in the 
house, but removed to another helonging to one Henry 
Salter, farmer, where she cried out all the night, from 
the terror she was in ; and she could not be persuaded 
to go any more to the house, on any terms. 

On the morrow, (Tuesday) the tenant's wife came to 
me, lodging then at Havant, to desire my advice, and 
consult with some friends about it ; I told her I 
thought it was a flam, and that they had a mind to 
abuse Mr. Brereton, the rector, whose house it was. 

K 



194 THE HAMPSHIRE CURATE. 

She desired I would come up, I told her I would 
come up, and sit up or lie there, as she pleased ; for 
then, as to all stories of ghosts or apparitions, I was an 
infidel. I went thither, and sat up the Tuesday night 
with the tenant and his man-servant. About twelve 
or one o'clock I searched all the rooms in the house, to 
see if any body was hidden there to impose upon me. At 
last we came into a lumber room ; where I, smiling, told 
the tenant that was with me, that I would call for the 
apparition, and oblige him to come. The tenant then 
seemed to be afraid, but I told him I would defend him 
from harm; and then I repeated, " Barbara, celarent 
Darii," &c. ; on this the tenant's countenance changed, 
so that he was ready to drop down with fear ; and I 
told him I perceived he w r as afraid, and I would pre- 
vent its coming, and repeated, " Baralipton" &c. ; 
then he recovered his spirits pretty well, and we left the 
room and went down into the kitchen, w r here we were 
before, and sat up there the remaining part of the night, 
and had no further disturbance. Thursday night the 
tenant and I lay together in one room, and the man 
in another room ; and he saw something glide along in 
a black gown, and place itself against a window, and 
there stood for some time, and then walked off. Friday 
morning, the man relating this, I asked him why he did' 
not call me, and I told him I thought that it was a trick 
or a flam ; he told me the reason why he did not call 
me was, that he was not able to speak or move. Friday 
night we lay as before, and had no disturbance either of 
the nights. 

Sunday night I lay by myself in one room, (apart from 
that in which the man saw the apparition) and the tenant 
and the man in one bed in another room ; and betwixt 



THE HAMPSHIRE CURATE. 195 

twelve and two the man heard something walk in their 
room at the bed's foot, and whistling very well; and at 
last it came to the bedside, drew the curtain, and looked 
on them; after some time it moved off. Then the 
man called to me, desired me to come, for that there 
was something in the room went about whistling. I 
asked him whether he had any light, or could strike 
one ; he told me, no. Then I leaped out of bed, and 
not staying to put on my clothes, went out of my room 
and along a gallery to the door, which I found locked 
or bolted. I desired him to unlock the door, as that I 
could not get in ; he then got out of bed and opened 
the door, which was near, and went immediately again 
to bed. I went in three or four steps ; and it being a 
moonlight night, I saw the apparition move from the 
bedside, and rest up against the wall that divided their 
room and mine. I went and stood directly against it, 
within my arm's length of it, and asked it in the name 
of God what it was that made it come disturbing of us. 
I stood some time expecting an answer, and receiving 
none, and thinking it might be some fellow hidden in the 
room to frighten me, I put out my arm to feel it, and my 
hand seemingly went through the body of it, and felt 
no manner of substance till it came to the wall ; then I 
drew back my hand, and still it was in the same place. 
Till now I had not the least fear, and even now had 
very little. Then I adjured it to tell me what it was. 
When I had said those words, it, keeping its back 
against the wall, moved gently along towards the door ; 
I followed it, and it, going out at the door, turned its 
back towards me ; it went a little along the gallery, and 
it disappeared where there was no corner for it to turn, 
and before it came to the end of the gallery where were 
the stairs. Then I found myself very cold from my 
k 2 



196 THE HAMPSHIRE CURxVTE. 

feet as high as my hips, though I was not in great 
fear. I went into the bed betwixt the tenant and his 
man, and they complained of my being exceeding cold. 
The tenant's man leaned over his master in the bed, 
and saw me stretch out my hand towards the apparition, 
and heard me speak the words ; the tenant also heard 
the words. 

The apparition seemed to have a morning gown of a 
darkish colour, no hat nor cap, short black hair, a thin 
meagre visage, of a pale swarthy colour ; seemed to be 
of about five and forty or fifty years old ; the eyes 
half sbut > the arms hanging down, the hands visible 
beneath the sleeve ; of a middle stature. I related 
this description to Mr. John Lardner, rector of Ha van t, 
and to Major Batten, of Langstone, in Havant parish ; 
they both said the description accorded with Mr. P., a 
former rector of the place, who had been dead above 
twenty years. Upon this the tenant and his wife left 
the house, which has remained void ever since. 

The Monday after last Michaelmas day, a man of 
Chodson, in Warwickshire, having been at Havant 
fair, passed by the aforesaid parsonage house about nine 
or ten at night, and saw a light in most of the rooms 
of the house. His pathway being close by the house, 
he, wondering at the light, looked into the kitchen win- 
dow, and saw only a light; but, turning himself to go 
away, he saw the appearance of a man in a long gown : 
he made haste away ; the apparition followed him over 
a piece of glebe land of several acres, to a lane which 
he crossed, and over a little meadow; then over another 
lane to some pales, which belong to farmer Henry 
Salter, my landlord, near a bara, in which were some 
of the farmer's men and some others. This man went 
into the barn, and told them how he was frightened 



LORD ORRERY AND THE BUTLER. 197 

and followed from the parsonage-house by an appari- 
tion, which they might see standing against the pales if 
they went out : they went out, -aud saw it scratch against 
the pales, and heard a hideous noise ; it stood there some 
time, and then disappeared : their description agreed 
with what J saw. 

This last account I had from the man himself, and 
also from the farmer's men. 

Thomas Wilkins, 
Curate of Warburton. 
December 11, 1695, Oxon. 

LORD ORRERY AND THE BUTLER, 

A gentleman in Ireland, residing near the Earl of 
Orrery, sent his butler one afternoon to buy some 
cards. As he passed along, he saw a company of 
people sitting round a table, with good cheer before 
them in the midst of a field. On approaching them, 
they all arose and saluted him, and desired him to sit 
down with them ; but one of them whispered these 
words in his ear, " Do nothing this company invites 
you to do." Hereupon he refused to sit down at the 
table, and immediately table and all that belonged dis- 
appeared ; and the company were now dancing and 
playing upon musical instruments. And the butler 
being asked to join them, he refused ; and they 
not being able to prevail upon him to accompany them in 
working any more than in feasting, or dancing, they all 
disappeared, and the butler was left alone. Instead of 
going forwards, he returned home as fast as he could, 
in great consternation ; and had no sooner entered his 
master's door, than he fell down, and lay some time 
senseless ; but recovering himself, he related to his master 
ivhat had passed. 



198 LORD ORRERY AND THE BUTLER. 

The night following there came one of this company 
to his bed-side, and told him, that if he offered to stir 
®ut of doors the next day, he would be carried away. 
Hereupon he kept at home ; but towards the evening, 
he ventured to put one foot over the threshold (several 
persons standing by), which he had no sooner done, 
than they cast a rope about Iris middle ; and the 
poor man was hurried away with great swiftness ; they 
followed him as fast as they could, but could not over- 
take him. At length they espied a horseman, coming 
towards him, and made signs to him to stop the man y 
whom he saw approaching him, and both ends of the 
rope but no body drawing. When they met, he laid 
hold on one end of the rope, and immediately had a 
smart blow given him over the 'arm with the other end ; 
but by this means the man was stopped, and the horse- 
man brought him back with him. 

The Earl of Orrery hearing of these strange reports,, 
requested that the man might be sent to his house the 
morning following, or quickly after; when he told the Earl 
that his spectre had been with him again, and assured 
him, that that day he should most certainly be carried 
away, and that no endeavours would avail to save him ; 
upon this he was kept in a large room, with a consider- 
able number of persons to guard him, among whom was 
the famous Mr. Greatrakes, who was a neighbour. There 
were beside other persons of quality, two bishops in the 
house at the same time, who were consulted concerning 
the use of a medicine, which the spectre prescribed ; but 
they determined on the negative. 

Till part of the afternoon had passed all was quiet, 
but at length he was perceived to rise from the ground^ 
whereupon Mr. Greatrakes, and another lusty man 
placed their arms over his shoulders, one of them before 



LORD ORRERY AND THE BUTLER. 199 

him, and the other behind him, and weighed him down 
with all their strength ; but he was forcibly taken up 
from them, and they were too weak to keep their hold, 
and for a considerable time he was carried in the air, 
to and fro over their heads, several of the company 
still running under him, to prevent his receiving injury 
if he should fall. At length he fell, and was caught 
before he came to the ground, and by that means was 
not hurt. 

All being quiet till bed-time, Lord Orrery ordered 
two of his servants to lie with him ; and the next morn- 
ing he told his Lordship, that his spectre was again 
with him, and brought a wooden dish, with grey liquor 
in it, and bid him drink it off ; at the first sight of the 
spectre, he said he endeavoured to awake' his bed-fel- 
lows, but it told him, that such endeavour should be in 
vain : and that he had no cause to fear him, he being 
his friend, and he that at first gave him the good advice in 
the field, which had he not followed, he would have been 
before now perfectly in the power of the company he 
saw there. He added, that he concluded it was im- 
possible, but that he should have been carried away the 
day before, there being so strong a combination against 
him ; but now he could assure him, that there would 
be more attempts of that nature ; but he being troubled 
with two sorts of fits, he had brought that liquor to 
cure him, and bade him drink it. He peremptorily re- 
fused, when the spectre upbraided him, but told him, 
however, if he would take plantain juice, he should re- 
cover one sort of fits, but he should carry the other to 
his grave. 

The spectre now asked him, whether he did not 

know him ? he answered no ; it replied, I am , 

the man answered, he had been long dead : I have 



200 LORD TYRO&E. 

been dead, said the spectre, seven years, and you know 
that I lived a loose life, and ever since I have been 
hurried up and down in a restless condition, with the 
company you saw, and shall be to the day of judg- 
ment. 

APPARITION OF LORD TYRONE TO LADY BERESFORD* 

Lord Tyrone and Miss — — , were born in Ire- 
land, and were left orphans in their infancy to the care 
of the same person, by whom they were both educated 
in the principles of deism. 

Their guardian dying when they were each of them 
about fourteen years of age, they fell into very different 
hands. Though separated from each other, their 
friendship was unalterable, and they continued to re- 
gard each other with a sincere and fraternal affection. 
After some years were elapsed, and both were grown 
up, they made a solemn promise to each other that 
whichever should die first, would, if permitted, appear 
to the other, to declare what religion was most approved 

by the Supreme Being. Miss ■ was shortly after 

addressed by Sir Martin Beresford, to whom she was 
after a few years married, but a change of condition 
had no power to alter their friendship. The families 
visited each other, and often spent some weeks together. 
A short time after one of these visits, Sir Martin re- 
marked, that when his lady came down to breakfast, 
that her countenance was disturbed, and inquired of 
her health. She assured him she was quite well. He 
then asked her if she had hurt her wrist ; a Have you 
sprained it ?'' said he, observing a black ribbon round 
it. She answered in the negative, and added, " Let 
me conjure you^ Sir Martin, never to inquire the cause 
of my wearing this ribbon ; you will never see me 



LORD TYRONE. 



201 



without it. If it concerned you as a husband to know, 
I would not for a moment conceal it ; I never in my 
life denied you a request, but of this I entreat you to 
forgive me the refusal, and never to urge mo farther on 
the subject." "Very well/' said he smiling, " since 
you beg me so earnestly, I will inquire no more." The 
conversation here ended ; but breakfast was scarce over, 
when Lady Beresford eagerly inquired if the post was 
come in ; she was told it was not. In a few minutes 
she rang again and repeated the inquiry. She was again 
answered as at first. " Do you expect letters ?\' said 
Sir Martin ; -" that you are so anxious for the arrival of 
the post?" tc I do," she answered, " I expect to hear 
that Lord Tyrone is dead ; he died last Tuesday at 
four o'clock." " I never in my life," said Sir Martin, 
" believed you superstitious ; some idle dream has surely 
thus alarmed you." At that instant the servant entered 
and delivered to them a letter sealed with black. u It 
is as I expected," exclaimed Lady Beresford, u Lord 
Tyrone is dead." Sir Martin opened the letter; it 
came from Lord Tyrone's steward, and contained the 
melancholy intelligence of his master's death, and on 
the very day and hour Lady Beresford had before spe- 
cified. Sir Martin begged Lady Beresford to compose 
herself, and she assured him she felt much easier than 
she had done for a long time ; and added, " I can 
communicate intelligence to you which I know will 
prove welcome ; I can assure you, beyond the possibility 
of a doubt, that I shall in some months present you 
with a son." Sir Martin received this news with the 
greatest joy. After some months, Lady Beresford was 
delivered of a son (she had before been the mother of 
only two daughters). Sir Martin survived the birth of 
his son little more than four years. After his decease 

k 3 



202 * LORD TtROKie. 

his widow seldom left home ; she visited no family but 
that of a clergyman who resided in the same village ; 
with them she frequently passed a few hours every day ; 
the rest of her time was spent in solitude, and she ap- 
peared determined for ever to banish all other society. 
The clergyman's family consisted of himself, his wife, 
and one son, who, at the time of Sir Martin's death, 
was quite a youth ; to this son, however, she was after 
a few years married, notwithstanding the disparity of 
years and the manifest imprudence of a connexion so 
unequal in every point of view. Lady Beresford was 
treated by her young husband with contempt and 
cruelty, while at the same time his conduct evinced him 
the most abandoned libertine, utterly destitute of every 
principle of virtue and humanity. By this, her second 
husband, she had two daughters ; after which such was 
the baseness of his conduct that she insisted on a sepa- 
ration. They parted for a few years, when so great 
was the contrition he expressed for his former conduct, 
that, won over by his supplications, promises, and en- 
treaties, she. was induced to pardon, and once more to 
reside with him, and was in time the mother of a son. 

The day on which she had lain-in a month being the 
anniversary of her birthday, she sent for Lady Betty 
Cobb (of whose friendship she had long been possessed) 
and a few other friends to request them to spend the 
day with her. About seven, the clergyman by whom 
she had been christened, and with whom she had all 
her life been intimate, came into the room to inquire 
after her health. She told him she was perfectly well, 
and requested him to spend the day with them ; for, 
said she, "" This is my birthday. I am forty-eight to 
day/' " No, madam/' answered the clergyman, 
" you are mistaken ; your mother and myself have 



LORD TYRONE. 203 

had many disputes concerning your age, and I have at 
last discovered that I was right. I happened to go last 
week into the parish where you were born ; I was re- 
solved to put an end to the dispute ; I searched the regis- 
ter, and rind that you are but forty-seven this day.*' 
" You have signed my death warrant/ 7 she exclaimed, 
" I have then but a few hours to live. I must, there- 
fore, entreat you to leave me immediately, as I have 
something of importance to settle before I die." When 
the clergyman left her, Lady Beresford sent to forbid 
the company coming, and at the same time to request 
Lady Betty Cobb and her son (of whom Sir Martin 
was the father, and was then about twenty-two years of 
age), to come to her apartment immediately. 

Upon their arrival, having ordered the attendants to 
quit the room, " I have something," she said, u of the 
greatest importance to communicate to you both before I 
die, a period which is not. far distant. You, Lady Betty, 
are no stranger to the friendship which subsisted between 
Lord Tyrone and myself; we were educated under the 
same roof, and in the same principles of deism. When 
the friends, into whose hands we afterwards fell, en- 
deavoured to persuade us to embrace revealed religion, 
their arguments, though insufficient to convince, were 
powerful enough to stagger pur former feelings, and to 
leave us wavering between the two opinions ; in this 
perplexing state of doubt and uncertainty, we made a 
solemn promise to each other, that whichever died first 
should (if permitted^ appear to the other, and declare 
what religion was most acceptable to God ; accordingly, 
one night, while Sir Martin and myself were in bed, I 
suddenly awoke and discovered Lord Tyrone sitting by 
my bed-side. I screamed out and endeavoured to awake 
Sir Martin ; " For Heaven's sake, " I exclaimed, 



204 



LORD TYRONE. 



c Lord Tyrone, by what means or for w*hat reason came 
you hither at this time of night." " Have you then 
forgotten our promise ?" said he. " I died last Tuesday 
at four o'clock, and have been permitted by the Supreme 
Being to appear to you, to assure you that the revealed 
religion is true, and the only religion, by which we can 
be saved. I am further suffered to inform you that you 
will soon produce a son ; which it is decreed will marry 
my daughter : not many years after his birth Sir Martin 
will die, and you will marry again, and to a man by 
whose ill-treatment you will be rendered miserable : 
you will have two daughters, and afterwards a son, in 
childbirth of whom you will die in the forty-seventh 
year of your age." "Just Heavens ! >3 I exclaimed> 
" and cannot I prevent this ?" u Undoubtedly you 
may," returned the spectre ; " you are a free agent, and 
may prevent it all by resisting every temptation to a 
second marriage ; but your passions are strong, you 
know not their power ; hitherto you have had no trials. 
More I am not permitted to reveal, but if after this 
warning you persist in your infidelity, your lot in another 
world will be miserable indeed !" " May I not ask," 
said I, " if you are happy ?"' " Had I been other- 
wise/' he replied, " I should not have beea permitted 
to appear to you." " I may then infer that you are 
happy ?" He smiled. " But how/' said I, "when 
morning comes, shall I know that your appearance to 
me has been real, and not the mere representation of my 
own imagination •?" " Will not the news of my death 
be sufficient to convince you ?" " No," I returned, 
« I might have had such a dream, and that dream acci- 
dentally come to pass. I will have some stronger proof* 
of its reality." " You shall," said he, « and waving 
his hand, the bed curtains, which were crimson velvet 



LORD TYRONE. 205 

were instantly drawn through a large iron hoop by which 
the tester of the bed was suspended." " In that/' said 
he, " you cannot be mistaken ; no mortal arm could 
have performed this/' " True," said I, " but sleeping 
we are often possessed of far more strength than when 
awake ; though waking I could not have done it, asleep 
I might ; and I shall still doubt/' " Here is a pocket- 
book, in this," said he, " I will write my name : you 
know my hand writing.'' I replied, " Yes. He 
wrote with a pencil on one side of the leaves. " Still/' 
said I, " in the morning 1 may doubt ; though waking 
I could not imitate your hand, asleep I might.'" " You 
are hard of belief/' said he : " it would injure you 
irreparably ; it is not for spirits to touch mortal flesh.'' 
u I do not/' said I, " regard a slight blemish." " You 
are a woman of courage/' replied he, " hold out your 
hand." I did : he struck my wrist : his hand was cold 
as marble : in a moment the sinews shrunk up, every 
nerve withered. " Now/' said he, " while you live 
let no mortal eye behold that wrist : to see it is sacri- 
lege." He stopped; I turned to him again; he was 
gone. During the time I had conversed with him my 
thoughts were perfectly calm and collected, but the 
moment he was gone I felt chilled with horror, the very 
bed moved under me, I endeavoured, but in vain, to 
awake Sir Martin, all my attempts were ineffectual, 
and in this state of agitation and terror I lay for some 
time, when a shower of tears came to my relief, and I 
dropped asleep. In the morning, Sir Martin arose and 
dressed himself as usual without perceiving the state the 
curtains remained in. 

When I awoke I found Sir Martin gone down ; I 
arose, and having put on my clothes, went to the gal- 
lery adjoining the apartment and took from thence a. 



20S LORD TYRONE, 

long broom (such as cornices are swept with), by the 
help of this I took down with some difficulty the cur- 
tains, as I imagined their extraordinary position might 
excite suspicion in the family. I then went to the 
bureau, took up my pocket-book, and bound a piece of 
black ribbon round my wrist. When I came down, the 
agitation of my mind had left an impression on my 
countenance too visible to pass unobserved by my hus- 
band. He instantly remarked it, and asked the cause ; 
I informed him Lord Tyrone was no more, that he died 
at the hour of four on the preceding Tuesday, and de- 
sired him never to question me more respecting the 
black ribbon ; which he kindly desisted from after. — 
You, my son, as had been foretold, I afterwards brought 
into the world, and in little more than four years after 
your birth your lamented father expired in my arms. 

After this melancholy event, I determined, as the only 
probable chance to avoid the sequel of the prediction, 
for ever to abandon all society ; to give up every pleasure 
resulting from it, and to pass the rest of my days in 
solitude and retirement. But few can long endure to 
exist in a state of perfect sequestration : I began an 
intimacy with a family, and one alone ; nor could I 
then foresee the fatal consequences which afterwards 
resulted from it. Little did I think their son, their only 
son, then a mere youth, would form the person destined 
by fate to prove my destruction. In a very few years I 
ceased to regard him with indifference ; I endeavoured 
by every possible way to conquer a passion, the fatal 
effects of which I too well knew. T had fondly ima- 
gined I had overcome its influence, when the evening of 
one fatal day terminated my fortitude, and plunged me 
in a moment down that abyss I had so long been medi- 
tating how to shun. He had often solicited his parents 



LORD TYRONE. 207 

For leave to go into the army, and at last obtained per- 
mission, and came to bid me adieu before his departure. 
The instant he entered the room he fell upon his knees 
at my feet, told me he was miserable, and that I alone 
was the cause. At that moment my fortitude forsook 
me, I gave myself up for lost, and regarding my fate as 
inevitable, without farther hesitation consented to a 
union; the immediate result of which I knew to be 
misery, and its end death. The conduct of my husband, 
after a few years, amply justified a separation, and I 
hoped by this means to avoid the fatal sequel of the 
prophecy ; but won over by his reiterated entreaties, I 
was prevailed upon to pardon, and once more reside 
with him, though not till after I had, as I thought, passed 
my forty-seventh year. 

But alas ! I have this day heard from indisputable 
authority, that I have hitherto lain under a mistake with 
regard to my age, and that I am but forty-seven to-day. 
Of the near approach of my death then I entertain not 
the slightest doubt. 

When I am dead, as the necessity of concealment 
closes with my life, I could wish that you, Lady Betty, 
would unbind my wrist, take from thence the black 
ribbon, and let my son with yourself behold it. Lady 
Beresford here paused for some time, but resuming the 
conversation, she entreated her son would behave himself 
so as to merit the high honour he would in future receive 
from a union with the daughter of Lord Tyrone. 

Lady B. then expressed a wish to lay down on the 
bed and endeavour to compose herself to sleep, Lady 
Betty Cobb and her son immediately called her domes- 
tics, and quitted the room, having first desired them to 
watch their mistress attentively, and if they observed the 
smallest change in her, to call instantly. 



208 MR. WILLIAM LILLY. 

An hour passed, and all was quiet in the room. They 
listened at the door, and every thing remained still, but 
in half an hour more a bell rang violently ; they flew to 
her apartment, but before they reached the door, they 
heard the servant exclaim "Oh, she is dead!" Lady 
Betty then bade the servants for a few minutes to quit 
the room, and herself with Lady Beresford'sson approach- 
ed the bed of his mother ; they knelt down by the side 
of it; Lady Betty then lifted up her hand and untied 
the ribbon ; the wrist was found exactly as Lady Beres- 
ford had described it, every sinew shrunk, every nerve 
withered. 

Lady Beresford's son, as had been predicted, is since 
married to Lord Tyrone's daughter, the black ribbon 
and pocket-book were formerly in the possession of Lady 
Betty Cobb, Marlborough Buildings, Bath, who, during 
her long life, was ever ready to attest the truth of this 
narration, as are, to the present hour, the whole of the 
Tyrone and Beresford families. 

TWO APPARITIONS TO MR. WILLIAM LILLY. 

The following Affair excited considerable interest in the 
North about the Middle of the last Century, 

On the first Sunday, in the year 1749, Mr. Thomas 
Lilly, the son of a farmer in the parish of Kelso, in 
Roxburghshire, a young man intended for the church of 
Scotland, remained at home to keep the house, in com- 
pany with a shepherd's boy, all the rest of the family, 
except a maid-servant, being at church. The young 
student and the boy being by the fire, whilst the girl 
was gone to the well for water, a venerable old gen- 
tleman, clad in an antique garb, presented himself, and 



MR. WILLIAM LILLY. 209 

after some little ceremony, desired the student to take 
up the family-bible, which lay on a table, and turn 
over to a certain chapter and verse in the Second Book 
of Kings. The student did so, and read — " there is 
death in the pot." 

On this the old man, with much apparent agitation, 
pointed to the great family pot boiling on the tire, 
declaring, that the maid had cast a great quantity of arse- 
nic into it, with an intent to poison the whole family, 
to the end she might rob the house of the hundred gui- 
neas which she knew her master had lately taken for 
sheep and grain, which he had sold. Just as he was so 
saying, the maid came to the door. The old gentleman 
said to n,he student, remember my warning and save the 
lives of the family ! — and that instant disappeared. 

The maid entered with a smiling countenance, emptied 
her pail, and returned to the well for a fresh supply- 
Meanwhile, young Lilly put some oatmeal into a 
wooden dish, skimmed the pot of the fat and mixed it, 
for what is called brose or croudy, and when the maid 
returned, he with the boy appeared busily employed in 
eating the mixture. Come, Peggy, said the student, here 
is enough left for you ; are not you fond of croudy r 
She smiled, took up the dish, and reaching a horn ^poon, 
withdrew to the back room. The shepherd's dog fol- 
lowed her, unseen by the boy, and the poor animal, on 
the croudy being put down by the maid, fell a victim to 
his voracious appetite ; for before the return of the 
family from church, it was enormously swelled, and 
expired in great agony. 

The student enjoined the boy to remain quite passive 
for the present, meanwhile he attempted to shew his in- 
genuity in resolving the cause of the canine catastrophe 
into insanity, in order to keep the girl in countenance 



210 MR. WILLIAM LILLY. 

till a fit opportunity of discovering the plot, should pre- 
sent itself. 

Soon after his father, and family, with the other ser- 
vants returned from church. 

The table was instantly replenished with wooden 
bowls and trenchers, while a heap of barley bannocks 
graced the top. The kail or broth, infused with leeks or 
winter-cabbages, was poured forth in plenty ; and Peggy, 
with a prodigal hand, filled all the dishes with the 
homely dainties of Tiviotdale. The master began grace, 
and all hats and bonnets were instantly off? " O Lord," 
prayed the farmer, " we have been hearing thy word, 
from the mouth of thy aged servant, Mr. Ramsay ; we 
have been alarmed by the awful famine in Samaria, and 
of death being in the pot !" Here the young scholar 
interrupted his father, by exclaiming — " Yes Sir, there is 
death in the pot now here, as well as there was once in 
Israel ! — Touch not ! taste not ! see the dog dead by the 
poisoned pot !" 

What ! cried the farmer, have you been raising the 
devil by your conjuration ? Is this the effect of your 
study, Sir ? — No, father, said the student, I pretend to 
no such arts of magic or necromancy, but this day, as 
the boy can testify, I had a solemn warning from one 
whom I take to be no demon, but a good angel. To 
him we all owe our lives. As to Peggy, according to 
his intimation, she has put poison into the pot for the 
purpose of destroying the whole family. Here the girl 
fell into a fit, from which being with some trouble 
recovered, she confessed the whole of her deadly design, 
and was suffered to quit the family and her native coun- 
try. She was soon after executed at Newcastle upon 
Tyne 5 for the murder of her illegitimate child, again 
.making ample confession of the above diabolical design. 



MR. WILLIAM LILLY. 



211 



In 1750, the same young Lilly was one day reading 
the 20th chapter of the Revelation of John the Divine ; 
just as he was entering upon that part which describes 
the angel binding the devil a thousand years, " after 
which he was to be loosed a little ;" a very venerable 
old personage appeared at his elbow; the young man fell 
on the floor, but quickly arose, and in the name of the 
Lord, demanded w T ho he was, and the nature of his 
business. Upon this the following colloquy ensued : — 

Lilly. — Shall I call thee Satan, the crooked serpent, the 
devil, Beelzebub, or Lucifer son of the morning. 

Appar. — I am a messenger from the dead, to see.or to cause 
justice to be done to thee and thy father ; I am the spirit of 
one of thy ancestors ! 

Lilly. — Art thou the soul of my grandfather, who amidst 
immense riches perished for want of food ? 

Appar. — Thou art right. Money was my deity, and Mam- 
mon my master : I heaped up gold, but did not enjoy it. 

Lilly.— 1 have frequently heard my father mention you, as 
a sordid, avaricious, miserable man. How did you dispose 
of the immense riches which you are said to have accumu- 
lated ? 

Appar. — It is, for the most part, hidden in a field, in the 
farm of your father, and I intend that you his son, should be 
the sole possessor of it, without suffering your father to know 
from whence your riches originated. Do not you recognize 
my face since the beginning of the last year ? 

Lilly. — Are you the old gentleman whose timely intelli- 
gence saved the lives of all our family ? 

Appar. — I am. Therefore think not your father ill re- 
warded already. 

Lilly. — How can I account to him for the immediate ac- 
cumulation of so much money as you seem to intimate? 

Appar. — Twenty thousand pounds sterling money ! 

Lilly. — You seem even now in your disembodied state to 
feel much emotion at the mention of much money. 

Appar, — But now I cannot touch the mon°y of mortals,— 



212 MR. THOMKINS TO THE REV. MR. WARREW 

But I cannot stay : follow me to the field, and I will point out 
the precise place where you are to dig. 

Here the apparition stalked forth round the bam yard, 
and Lilly followed him, till he came to a field about 
three furlongs from his father's door, when the apparition 
stood still on a certain spot, wheeled thrice round, and. 
vanished into air. 

This proved to be the precise place where young Lilly 
and his companions had often devoted to pastime, being 
a hollow, whence stone had formerly been dug. He lost 
but little time in consideration, for having procured a 
pick-axe and a spade, he actually discovered the trea- 
sure. Bis immense wealth enabled him to perform many 
acts of charity in that country, as many can testify to 
this day. 

The pots in which the money, consisting of large 
pieces of gold and silver, were deposited, have often been 
shewn as curiosities hardly to be equalled in the south 
of Scotland. — World of Spirits, 1796. 

APPARITION OF MR. THOMKINS TO THE REV. MR. 
WARREN. 

Mr. John Warren, minister of Hatfield-Broad- 
oak, in Essex, a worthy and pious man, was one day 
in his garden reading Bunyan's Publican and Pharisee, 
when he was accosted by a neighbour, who entered 
into discourse with him upon the words, " Shall a 
man be more righteous than his Maker ?" Mr. Warren's 
discourse in general ran upon the promises, while Mr. 
Thomkins, his neighbour, chiefly urged the threatenings 
of God. At length Mr. Warren's servant came and in- 
formed him the dinner was ready, and his mistress 
waited for him : he asked his neighbour Thomkins to 
dinner, which the latter, with tears in his eyes, refused, 
saying, " my time is come, and I must. away." 



REV. JOHN WESLEY. 213 

Mr. Warren was proceeding to expostulate with bis 
friend Thorn kins, when the servant repeated the message, 
urging that a neighbour had sent for him to go imme- 
diately upon occasion of life and death. Mr. Warren 
withdrawing towards the house, still continued the dis- 
course upon the former subject, comforting his friend till 
he arrived at the door, when entering first, he left the 
door open that Mr. Thomkins might come in ; but 
nobody coming in he went directly and sought him all over 
his garden, but found him not, which much disturbed 
his mind then, and much more soon afterwards, when he 
found that his neighbour and friend Thomkins was just 
expired, and had not been out of his house, according 
10 every testimony, that day, Mr. Warren's servant 
testified seeing her master in conversation with a person, 
in the garden, and telling her mistress so, she wondered 
she had seen nobody go through the house, as there was 
no other way into Ihe garden. Mr. Warren, a pious 
and sensible divinp, often related this to Mr. Goodman, 
who recites it in his work, entitled Winter-evening 
Conferences bet ween Neighbours. — World of Spirits. 

NARRATIVE DRAWN TJP BY THE REV. JOHN WESLEY, 

And published in the Arminian Magazine. 

When I was very young, I heard several letters 
read, wrote to my elder brother by my father, giving an 
account of strange disturbances, which were in his 
house at Epworth, in Lincolnshire. 

When I went down thither, in the year 1720, I 
carefully inquired into the particulars. I spoke to each 
of the persons who were then in the house, and took 
down what each could testify of his or her own know- 
ledge. The sum of which was this. 

On December 2, 1716, while Robert Brown, my 
father's servant, was sitting w T ith one of the maids a 



214 REV. JOHN WESLEY. . 

little before ten at night, in the dining room which 
opened into the garden, they both heard one knocking 
at the door. Robert rose and opened it, but could see 
nobody. Quickly it knocked again and groaned. " It 
is Mr. Turpine," said Robert ; " he has the stone and 
uses to groan so." He opened the door again twice or 
thrice, the knocking being twice or thrice repeated. 
But still seeing nothing, and being a little startled, they 
rose and went up to bed, When Robert came to the 
top of the garret stairs, he saw a hand mill, which was 
at a little distance, whirled about very swiftly. When 
he related this, he said, " Nought vexed me, but that it 
was empty. I thought if it had but been full of malt he 
might have ground his heart out for me." When he 
was in bed, he heard as it were the gobbling of a turkey- 
cock, close to the bed-side ; and soon after, the sound 
of one stumbling over his shoes and boots, but there 
were none there : he had left them below. The next 
day, he and the maid related these things to the other 
maid, who laughed heartily, and said, " What a couple 
of fools are you ! I defy any thing to fright me/' After 
churning in the evening, she put the butter in the tray, 
and had no sooner carried it into the dairy, than she 
heard a knocking on the shelf where several puncheons 
of milk stood, first above the shelf, then below ; she 
took the candle and searched both above and below; 
but being able to find nothing, threw down butter, tray, 
and all, and ran away for life. 

The next evening between five and six o'clock, my 
sister Molly, then about twenty years of age, sitting in 
the dining room, reading, heard as if it were the door 
that led into the hall open, and a person walking in, 
that seemed to have on a silk night-gown, rustling and 
trailing along. It seemed to walk round her, then to 



REV. JOHN WESLEY. 215 

the door, then round again : but she could see nothing. 
She thought, " it signifies nothing to run away ; for 
whatever it is, it can run faster than me." So she rose, 
put her book under her arm, and walked slowly away. 
After supper, she was sitting with my sister Suky, 
(about a year older than her,) in one of the cham- 
bers, and telling her what had happened, she quite 
made light of it ; telling her, ei I wonder you are so 
easily frighted ; I would fain see what would fright 
me." Presently a knocking began under the table. 
She took the candle and looked, but could find nothing. 
Then the iron casement began to clatter, and the lid of 
a warming pan. Next the latch of the door moved up 
and down without ceasing. She started up, leaped 
into bed without undressing, pulled the bed clothes 
over her head, and never ventured to look up till next 
morning. 

A night or two after, my sister Hetty, a year younger 
than my sister Molly, was waiting as usual, betw r een 
nine and ten, to take away my father's candle, when 
she heard one coming down the garret stairs, walking 
slowly by her, then going down the best stairs, then 
up the back stairs, and up the garret stairs. And at 
every step, it seemed the house shook from top to bot- 
tom. Just then my father knocked. She went in, 
took his candle, and got to bed as fast as possible. In 
the morning she told this to my eldest sister, who told 
her, " You know, I believe none of these things. Pray 
let me take away the candle to night and I wall jfind 
out the trick." She accordingly took my sister Hetty's 
place, and had no sooner taken away the candle, than 
she heard a noise below. She hastened down stairs, 
to the hall, where the noise was. But it was then in 
the kitchen. She ran into the kitchen, where it was 
drumming on the inside of the screen. When she 



216 



REV. JOHN WESLEY. 



went round it was drumming on the outside, and so 
always on the side opposite to her. Then she heard a 
knocking at the back kitchen door. She ran (o it, un- 
locked it softly, and when the knocking was repeated, 
suddenly opened it ; but nothing was to be seen. As 
soon as she had shut it, the knocking began again ; she 
opened it again, but could see nothing ; when she went 
to shut the door, it was violently thrust against her; she 
let it fly open, but nothing appeared. She went again 
to shut it, and it was again thrust against her ; but she 
set her knee and her shoulder to the door, forced it to, 
and turned the key. Then the knocking began again ; 
but she let it go on, and went up to bed. However, 
from that time she was thoroughly convinced that there 
was no imposture in the affair. 

The next morning, my sister telling my mother what 
had happened, she said, " If I hear any thing myself, 
I shall know how to judge/' Soon after, she begged 
her to come into the nursery. She did, and heard in 
the corner of the room, as it were the violent rocking 
of a cradle ; but no cradle had been there for some 
years. She was convinced it was preternatural, and 
earnestly prayed it might not disturb her in her own 
chamber at the hours of retirement ; arid it never did. 
She now thought it was proper to tell my father. But 
he was extremely angry, and said, " Suky, I am 
ashamed of you ; these boys and girls fright one ano- 
ther ; but you are a woman of sense, and should know 
better. Let me hear of it no more." At six in the 
evening, he had family prayers as usual. When he 
began the prayer for the King, a knocking began all 
round the room ; and a thundering knock attended the 
Amen. The same was heard from this time every 
morning and evening, while the prayer for tne King was 
repeated. As both my father and mother are now at 



REV. JOHN- WESLEY. 217 

rest, and incapable of being pained thereby, I think it 
nay duty to furnish the serious reader with a key to this 
circumstance. 

The year before King William died, my father ob- 
served my mother did not say Amen to the prayer 
for the King. She said she could not ; for she did not 
believe the Prince of Orange was King. He vowed he 
never would cohabit with her till she did. He then 
took his horse and rode away, nor did she hear any 
thing of him for a twelvemonth. He then came back, 
and lived with her as before. But I fear his vow was 
not forgotten before God. 

Being informed that Mr. Hoole, the vicar of Haxey, 
(an eminently pious and sensible man), could give me 
some farther information, I walked over to him. He 
said, " Robert Brown came over to me, and told me, 
your father desired my company. When I came, he 
gave me an account of all that had happened ; particu- 
larly the knocking during family^ prayer. But that 
evening (to my great satisfaction) we had no knocking 
at all. But between nine and ten, a servant came in 
and said, ( Old Jefferies is coming/ (that was the name 
of one that died in the house,) ' for I hear the signal.' 
This they informed me was heard every night about a 
quarter before ten. It was toward the top of the house 
on the outside, at the north-east corner, resembling the 
loud creaking of a saw, or rather that of a windmill, 
when the body of it is turned about, in order to shift 
the sails to the wind. We then heard a knocking over 
our heads, and Mr. Wesley catching up a candle, said, 
' Come, Sir, now you shall hear for yourself.'* We 
went up stairs ; he with much hope, and I (to say the 
truth) with much fear. When we came into the nur- 
sery, it was knocking in the next room ; when we were 

L 



218 REV. JOHN WESLEY. 

there, it was knocking in the nursery. And there it 
continued to knock, though we came in, particularly at 
the head of the bed (which was of wood) in which 
Miss Hetty and two of her younger sisters lay. Mr. 
Wesley, observing that they were much affected though 
asleep, sweating, and trembling exceedingly, was very 
angry, and pulling out a pistol, was going to fire at the 
place from whence the sound came. But I catehed 
him by the arm, and said, ' Sir, you are convinced this 
is something preternatural. If so, you cannot hurt it ; 
but you give it power to hurt you/ He then went close 
to the place and said sternly, * Thou deaf and dumb 
devil, why dost thou fright these children, that cannot 
answer for themselves ? Come to me in my study that 
am a man !' Instantly it knocked his knock (the par- 
ticular knock which he always used at the gate) as if 
it would shiver the board in pieces, and we heard no- 
thing more that night." Till this time, my father had 
never heard the least disturbances in his study. But 
the next evening, as he attempted to go into his study, 
(of w^hich none had any key but himself) when he 
opened the door, it was thrust back with such violence, 
as had like to have thrown him down. However, he 
thrust the door open and went in. Presently there was 
knocking first on one side, then on the other ; and after 
a time, in the next room, wherein my sister Nancy was. 
He went into that room, and (the noise continuing) ad- 
jured it to speak ; but in vain. He then said, " These 
spirits love darkness : put out the candle, and perhaps 
it will speak ;" she did so ; and he repeated his adju- 
ration ; but still there was only knocking, and no arti- 
culate sound. Upon this he said, " Nancy, two Chris- 
tians are an overmatch for the devil. Go all of you 
down stairs ; it may be, when I^m alone, he will have 



REV. JOHN WESLEY. 219 

the courage to speak." When she was gone, a thought 
came in, and he said, " If thou art the spirit of my son 
Samuel, I pray knock three knocks and no more," 
Immediately all was silence; and there was no more 
knocking at all that night. I asked my sister Nancy 
(then about fifteen years old) whether she w T as not 
afraid, when my father used that adjuration ? She 
answered, she was sadly afraid it would speak, when 
she put out the candle ; but she was not at all afraid in 
the day time, when it walked after her, as she swept 
the chambers, as it consatntly did, and seemed to sweep 
after her ; only she thought he might have done it for 
her, and saved her the trouble. By this time all my 
sisters were so accustomed to these noises, that they 
gave them little disturbance. A gentle tapping at their 
bed's-head usually began between nine and ten at night. 
They then commonly said to each other, 6< Jeffery is 
coming ; it is time to go to sleep.'' And if they heard 
a noise in the day, and said to my youngest sister, 
" Hark, Kezzy, Jeffery, is knocking above," she would 
run up stairs, and pursue it from room to room, saying, 
she desired no better diversion. 

A few nights after, my father and mother were just 
gone to bed, and the candle was not taken away, when 
they heard three blows, and a second, and a third three, 
as it were with a large oaken staff, struck upon a 
chest which stood by the bed-side. My father im- 
mediately arose, put on his night-gown, and hearing 
great noises below, took the candle and went down ■ 
my mother walked by his side. As they went down 
the broad stairs, they heard as if a vessel full of silver 
was poured upon my mother's breast, and ran jingling 
down to her feet. Quickly after there was a sound, as 
if a large iron ball was thrown among many bottles 

l2 



220 REV, JOHN WESLEY. 

under the stairs ; but nothing was hurt. Soon after, 
our large mastiff dog came and ran to shelter himself 
between them. While the disturbances continued, he 
used to bark and leap, and snap on one side and the 
other; and that frequently before any person in the 
room heard any noise at all. But after two or three 
days, he used to tremble, and creep away before the 
noise began. And by this, the family knew it was at 
hand ; nor did the observation ever fail. A little before 
my father and mother came into the hall, it seemed as 
if a very large coal was violently thrown upon the fljoor 
and dashed all in pieces ; but nothing was seen. My 
father then cried out, u Suky, do you not hear ? All 
the pewter is thrown about the kitchen/' But when 
they looked, all the pewter stood in its place. There 
then was a loud knocking at the back-door. My father 
opened it, but saw nothing. It was then at the fore- 
door. He opened that : but it was still lost labour. 
After opening first the one, then the other several times, 
he turned and went up to bed. But the noises were so 
violent all over the house, that he could not sleep till 
four in the morning. 

Several gentlemen and clergymen now earnestly ad- 
vised my father to quit the house ; but he constantly 
answered, " No ; let the devil flee from me ; I will 
never flee from the devil/' But he wrote to my eldest 
brother at London to come down. He was preparing 
so to do, when another letter came, informing him the 
disturbances were over ; after they had continued (the 
latter part of the time day and night) from the second 
of December to the end of January. 

An author who in this age relates such a story, and 
treats it as not utterly incredible and absurd, must ex-- 
pect tc-be ridiculed, and very justly; but the testimony 



REV. JOHN WESLEY. 221 

upon which it rests is far too strong to be set aside be- 
cause of the strangeness of the relation, The letters 
which passed at the time between Samuel Wesley and 
the family at Ep worth, the journal which Mr. Wesley 
kept of these remarkable transactions, and the evidence 
concerning them which John afterwards collected, fell 
into the hands of Dr. Priestley, and were published 
by him as being " perhaps the best authenticated and 
best told story of the kind that is any where extant." 
He observes in favour of the story, " that all the parties 
seem to have been sufficiently void of fear, and also free 
from credulity, except the general belief that such 
things were supernatural." 

We give the most important and circumstantial of 
the letters of this family : — 

To Mr, Samuel Wesley, from his Mother.* 

January 12, 1716-7. 
Dear Sam, 

This evening we were' agreeably surprised with your 
pacquet, which brought the welcome news of your being 
alive, after we had been in the greatest panic imaginable, 
almost a month, thinking either you was dead, or one of 
your brothers by some misfortune been killed. 

The reason of our fears is as follows. On the first of De- 
cember, our maid heard, at the door of the dining-room, 
several dismal groans, like a person in extremes, at the point 
of death. We gave little heed to her relation, and endea- 
voured to laugh her out of her fears. Some nights (two or 
three) after, several of the family heard a strange knocking 
in divers places, usually three or four knocks at a time, and 
then stayed a little. This continued every night for a fort- 

* The MS. is in the hand-writing of Mr. S. Wesley. The titles 
o the letters, denoting the writers, and the persons to whom they 
wfeft written, are only added. 



222 



REV. JOHN WESLEY. 



night ; sometimes it was in the garret, but most commonly in 
the nursery, or green chamber. We all heard but your father, 
and I was not willing he should be informed of it, lest he 
should fancy it was against his own death, which, indeed, we 
all apprehended. But when it began to be so troublesome, 
both day and night, that few or none of the family durst be 
alone, I resolved to tell him of it, being minded he should 
speak to it. At first he would not believe but somebody did 
it to alarm us ; but the night after, as soon as he was in bed, 
it knocked loudly nine times, just by his bed-side. He rose, 
and went to see if he could find out what it was, but could 
see nothing. Afterwards he heard it as the rest. 

One night it made such a noise in the room over our 
heads, as if several people were walking, then run up and 
down stairs, and was so outrageous that we thought the chil- 
dren would be frighted, so your father and I rose, and went 
down in the dark to light a candle. Just as we came 
to the bottom of the broad stairs, having hold of each other, 
on my side there seemed as if somebody had emptied a bag 
of money at my feet ; and on his, as if all the bottles under 
the stairs (which were many) had been dashed in a thousand 
pieces. We passed through the hall into the kitchen, and 
got a candle, and went to see the children, whom we found 
asleep. 

The next night your father would get Mr. Hoole to lie at 
our house, and we all sat together till one or two o'clock 
in the morning, and heard the knocking as usual. Sometimes 
it would make a noise like the winding up of a jack, at 
other times, as that night Mr. Hoole was with us, like a 
carpenter planing deals ; but most commonly it knocked 
thrice and stopped, and then thrice again, and so many hours 
together. We persuaded your father to speak, and try if any 
voice would be heard. One night about six o'clock he went 
into the nursery in the dark, and at first heard several deep 
groans, then knocking. He adjured it to speak if it had 
power, and tell him why it troubled his house, but no voice 
was heard, but it knocked thrice aloud. Then he questioned 
it if it were Sammy, and bid it, if it were, and could not 



REV. JOHN WESLEY. 223 

speak, knock again, but it knocked no more that night, 
which made us hope it was not against your death. 

Thus it continued till the 28th of December, when it 
loudly knocked (as your father used to do at the gate) in the 
nursery, and departed. We have various conjectures what 
this may mean. For my own part, I fear nothing now you 
are safe at London hitherto, and I hope God will still preserve 
you. Though sometimes I am inclined to think my brother 
is dead. Let me know your thoughts on it. 

S. W. 



From Miss Susannah Wesley to her Brother Samuel. 

Epworth, Jan. 24. 
Dear Brother, 

About the first of December, a most terrible and astonish- 
ing noise was heard by a maid-servant, as at the dining-room 
door, which caused the up-starting of her hair, and made her 
ears prick forth at an unusual rate. She said, it was like the 
groans of one expiring. These so frighted her, that for a 
great while she durst not go out of one room into another, 
after it began to be dark, without company. But, to lay 
aside jesting, which should not be done in serious matters, I 
assure you that from the first to the last of a lunar month, 
the groans, squeaks, tinglings, and knockings, were frightful 
enough. 

Though it is needless for me to send you any account of 
what we all heard, my father himself having a larger account 
of the matter than I am able to give, which he designs to 
send you ; yet, in compliance with your desire, I will tell you 
as briefly as I can, what I heard of it. The first night I ever 
heard it, my sister Nancy and I were sitting in the dining- 
room. We heard something rush on the outside of the 
doors that opened into the garden, then three loud knocks, 
immediately after other three, and in half a minute the same 
number over our heads. We enquired whether any body 
had been in the garden, or in the room above us, but there 
was nobody. Soon after my sister Molly and I were up 
after all the family were a-bed, except my sister Nancy, about 



224 



REV. JOHN WESLEY. 



some business. We heard three bouncing thumps under our 
feet, which soon made us throw away our work, and tumble 
into bed. Afterwards the tingling of the latch and warming 
pan, and so it took its leave that night. 

Soon after the above mentioned, we heard a noise as if a 
great piece of sounding metal was thrown down on the out- 
side of our chamber. We, lying in the quietest part of the 
house, heard less than the rest for a pretty while, but the 
latter end of the night that Mr. Hoole sat up on, I lay in 
the nursery, where it was very violent. I then heard frequent 
knocks over and under the room where I lay, and at the 
children's bed head, which was made of boards. It seemed 
to rap against it very hard and loud, so that the bed shook 
under them. I heard something walk by my bedside, like a 
man in a long night-gown. The knocks were so loud, that 
Mr. Hoole came out of their chamber to us. It still con- 
tinued. My father spoke, but nothing answered. It ended 
that night with my father's particular knock, very fierce. 

It is now pretty quiet, only at our repeating the prayers for 
the king and prince, when it usually begins, especially when 
my father says, " Our most gracious Sovereign Lord," &c„ 
This my father is angry at, and designs to say three instead of 
two for the royal family. We all heard the same noise, and 
at the same time, and as coming from the same place. To 
conclude this, it now makes its personal appearance : but <£f 
this more hereafter. Do not say one word of this to our 
folks, nor give the least hint. 

I am, 
Your sincere friend and affectionate Sister, 

Susannah Wesley, 



From Miss Emily Wesley to her Brother Samuel. 

Dear Brother, 
I thank you for your last, and shall give you what satis- 
faction is in my power, concerning what has happened in our 
family. I am so far from being superstitious, that I was too 
much inclined to infidelity, so that I heartily rejoice at having 



ftEV. JOHN WESLEY. 



22o 



such an opportunity of convincing myself past doubt or 
scruple, of the existence of some beings besides those we see* 
A whole month was sufficient to convince any body of the 
reality of the thing, and to try all ways of discovering any 
trick, had it been possible for any such to have been used. 
I shall only tell you what I myself heard, and leave the rest 
to others. 

My sisters in the paper chamber had heard noises, and told 
me of them, but I did not much believe, till one night, about 
a week after the first groans were heard, which was the be- 
ginning, just after the clock had struck ten, I went down 
stairs to lock the doors, which I always do. Scarce had I got 
up the best stairs, when I heard a noise, like a person throw- 
ing down a vast coal in the middle of the fore kitchen, and 
all the splinters seemed to fly about from it. I was not much 
frighted, but went to my sister Suky, and we together went 
all over the low rooms, but there was nothing out of order. 

Our dog was fast asleep, and our only cat in the other end 
of the house. No sooner was I got up stairs, and undressing 
for bed, but I heard a noise among many bottles that stand 
under the best stairs, just like the throwing of a great stone 
among them, which had broke them all to pieces. This made 
me hasten to bed ; but my sister Hetty, who sits always to 
wait on my father going to bed, was still sitting on the lowest 
step on the garret stairs, the door being shut at her back, 
when soon after there came down the stairs behind her, 
something like a man, in a loose night-gown trailing after 
him, which made her fly rather than run to me in the 
nursery. 

All this time we never told our father of it/ but soon after 
we did. He smiled, and gave no answer, but was more care- 
ful than usual, from that time, to see us in bed, imagining it 
to be some of us young women, that sat up late, and made a 
noise. His incredulity, and especially his imputing it to us, 
or our lovers, made me, I own, desirous of its continuance 
till he was convinced. As for my mother, she firmly believed 
it to be rats, and sent for a horn to blow them away. I 
laughed to think how wisely they were employed, who were 
l 3 



226 REV. JOHN WESLEY. 

striving half a day to fright away Jeffery, for that name I 
gave it, with a horn. 

But whatever it was, I perceived it could be made angry % 
for from that time it was so outrageous, there was no 
quiet for us after ten at night. I heard frequently between 
ten and eleven, something like the quick winding up of a 
jack, at the corner of the room by my bed's head, just like 
the running of the wheels and the creaking of the iron work. 
This was the common signal of its coming. Then it would 
knock on the floor three times, then at my sister's bed's head, 
in the same room, almost always three together, and then 
stay. The sound was hollow, and loud, so as none of us 
could ever imitate. 

It would answer to my mother, if she stamped on the 
floor, and bid it. It would knock when I was putting the 
children to bed, just under me where I sat. One time little 
Kesy, pretending to scare Patty, as I was undressing them, 
stamped with her foot on the floor, and immediately it 
answered with three knocks, just in the same place. It was 
more loud and fierce if any one said it was. rats, or any thing 
natural. 

I could tell you abundance more of it, but the rest will 
write, and therefore it would be needless. I was not much 
frighted at first, and very little at last ; but it was never near 
me, except two or three times, and never followed me, as it 
did my Sister Hetty. I have been with her when it has knocked 
under her, and when she has removed has followed, and 
still kept just under her feet, which was enough to terrify a 
stouter person. 

If you would know my opinion of the reason of this, I 
shall briefly tell you. I believe it to be witchcraft, for these 
reasons. About a year since, there was a disturbance at a 
town near us, that was undoubtedly witches ; and if so near, 
why may they not reach us ? Then my father had for several 
Sundays before its coming preached warmly against consult- 
ing those that are called cunning men, which our people are 
given to ; and it had a particular spite at my father. 

Besides, something was thrice seen. The first" time by my 



REV. JOHN WESLEY. 22? 

mother, under my sister's bed, like a badger, only without 
any head that was discernible. The same creature was sat 
by the dining-room fire one evening : when our man went 
into the room, it run by him, through the hall under the 
stairs. He followed with a candle, and searched, but it was 
departed. The last time he saw it in the kitchen, like a 
white rabbit, which seems likely to be some witch ; and I do 
so really believe it to be one, that I would venture to fire a 
pistol at it, if I saw it long enough. It has been heard by 
me and others since December. I have filled up all my room? 
and have only time to tell you, I am, 

Your loving sister, 

Emilia Wesley. 



Addenda to and from my Father } s Diary. 

Friday, December 21. Knocking I heard first, I think, 
this night : to which disturbances, I hope, God will in his 
good time put an end. 

Sunday, December 25. Not much disturbed with the 
noises that are now grown customary to me. 

Wednesday, December 26. Sat up to hear noises. Strange ! 
spoke to it, knocked off. 

Friday, 28. The noises very boisterous and disturbing 
this night. 

Saturday, 29. Not frighted, with the continued disturb- 
ance of my family. 

Tuesday, January 1, 1717. My family have had no dis- 
turbance since I went. 

Of the general Circumstances which follow, most, if not all the 
Family, icere frequent Witnesses. 

1. Presently after any noise was heard, the wind com- 
monly rose, and whistled very loud round the house, and 
increased with it. 

2. The signal was given, which my father likens to the 
turning round of a windmill when the wind changes : Mr. 



228 REV. JOHN WESLEY. 

Hoole (Rector of Haxey) to the planing of deal boards ; my 
sister to the swift winding up of a jack. It commonly began 
at the corner of the top of the nursery. 

3. Before it came into any room, the latches were frequently 
lifted up, the windows clattered, and whatever iron or brass 
was about the chamber, rung and jarred exceedingly. 

4. When it was in any room, let them make what noise 
they would, as they sometimes did on purpose, its dead hol- 
low note would be clearly heard above them all. 

5. It constantly knocked while the prayers for the King 
and Prince were repeating, and was plainly heard by all in 
the room, but my father, and sometimes by him, as were also 
the thundering knocks at the Amen. 

6. The sound very often seemed in the air in the middle 
of a room, nor could they ever make any such themselves, by 
any contrivance. 

7. Though it seemed to rattle down the pewter, to clap the 
doors, draw the curtains, kick the man's shoes up and down, 
&c. yet it never moved any thing except the latches, otherwise 
than making it tremble ; unless once, when it threw open the 
nursery dom*. 

8. The mastiff though he barked violently at it the first 
day he came, yet whenever it came after that, nay, sometimes 
before the family perceived it, he ran whining, or quite 
silent, to shelter himself behind some of the company. 

9. It never came by day, till my mother ordered the horn 
to be blown, 

10. After that time, scarce any" one could go from one 
room into another, but the latch of the room they went to 
was lifted up before they touched it. 

1 1. It never came once into my father's study, till he talked 
to it sharply, called it deaf and dumb devil, and bid it cease 
to disturb the innocent children, and come to him in his 
study, if it had any thing to say to him. 

12. From the time of my mother's desiring it not to disturb 
her from five to six, it was never heard in her chamber from 
five till she came down stairs, nor at any other time, when 
she was Employed in devotion. 



DOCTOR PITCA1RNE. 229 

13. Whether our clock went right or wrong, it always 
came, as Hear as could 'be guessed, when by the night it 
wanted a quarter of ten. 

The Rev. Mr. Hoole's Account. 

Sept. 10. 

As soon as I came to Epworth, Mr. Wesley telling me, he 
sent for me to conjure, I knew not what he meant, till some 
of your sisters told me what had happened, and that I was 
sent for to sit up. I expected every hour, it being then 
about noon, to hear something extraordinary, but to no pur- 
pose. At supper, too, and at prayers, all was silent, con- 
trary to custom ; but soon after one of the maids, who went 
up to sheet a bed, brought the alarm that Jeffery was come 
above stairs. We all went up, and as we were standing 
round the fire in the east chamber, something began knock- 
ing just on the other side of the wall, on the chimney-piece, 
as with a key. Presently the knocking was under our feet, 
Mr. Wesley and I went down, he with a great deal of hope, 
and I with fear. As soon as we were in the kitchen, the 
sound was above us, in the room we had left. We returned 
up the narrow stairs, and heard at the broad stairs head, some 
one slaring with their feet (all the family being now in bed 
beside us) and then trailing, as it were, and rustling with a 
silk night-gown. Quickly it was in the nursery, at the bed's 
head, knocking as it had done at first, three by three. Mr. 
Wesley spoke to it, and said he believed it was the devil, and 
soon after it knocked at the window, and changed its sound 
into one like the planing of boards. From thence it went on 
the outward south side of the house, sounding fainter and 
fainter, till it was heard no more. 

I was no other time than this during the noises at Ep- 
worth, and do not now remember any more circumstances 
than these. — Sec Sout key's Life of Wesley, Vol. 1. 

DOCTOR PITCAIRNE. 

Doctor Pitcairne is said never to have related 
this story without some emotion of spirit. His friend 



230 FICTNUS AND MERCATO. 

Mr. Lindesey upon reading with the doctor, when very- 
young, the known story of the two platonic philoso- 
phers, who promised to one another, that whoever died 
first, should return a visit to his surviving companion, 
entered into the same engagement with him. Some 
years after, Pitcairne at his fathers house in Fife, 
dreamed one morning, that Lindesey, who was then at 
Paris, came to him and told him, that he was not dead, 
as was commonly reported, hut still alive, and lived in 
a very pleasant place, to which he could not as yet 
carry him. By the next post, news came of Lindesey' s 
death, which happened very suddenly on the morning 
of the dream. 

APPARITION OF FICINUS TO MICHAEL MERCATO, 

related by Baronius, 

Ficinus and Mercato, after a long discourse on the 
nature of the soul, had agreed, that, whoever of the two 
should die first, should, if possible, appear to his sur- 
viving friend, and inform him of his condition in the 
other world. 

A short time afterwards, says Baronius*, it happened, 
that while Michael Mercato the elder was studying 
philosophy, early in the morning, he suddenly heard the 
noise of a horse galloping in the street, which stopped 
at his door, and the voice of his friend Ficinus was 
heard, exclaiming — " O Michael ! O Michael ! those 
things are true." Astonished at his address, Mercato 
rose, and looked out of the window ; where he saw the 
back of his friend, dressed in white, galloping on a white 
horse. He called after him, and followed him with his 

* Baronii Annates.— This story was told to Baronius by the 
grandson of Mercato, who was prothonotary of the church, and a 
man of the greatest probity, as well as of general knowledge. 



THE IRISH MASSACRE. 231 

eyes till the appearance vanished. Upon inquiry, he 
learned that Ficirms had died at Florence, at the very 
time when the vision was presented to Mercato, at a 
considerable distance. 

APPARITIONS SEEN AT PORTNEDOWN BRIDGE AFTER THE 
IRISH MASSACRE ; 

Being Copies of the Evidence produced by Sir John Temple. 

1. James Shaw, of Market Hill, in the county of 
Armagh, innkeeper, deposeth, that many of the Irish 
rebels, in the time of this deponent's restraint, and stay- 
ing among them, told him very often, and it was a 
common report, that all those who lived about the bridge 
of Portnedown were so affrighted with the cries and 
noise made there of some spirits or visions for revenge, 
as that they durst not stay, but fled away thence, so as 
they protested, affrighted to Market Hill, saying, they 
durst not return thither for fear of those cries and spirits, 
but took grounds and made (creaghs), in or near the 
parish of Mulabrac. 

Jurat, August 14, 1642. 

2. Joan, the relict of Gabriel Constable, late of Dur- 
mant, in the county of Armagh, gent., deposeth and 
saith, that she often heard the rebels, Owen O'Farren, 
Patrick O'Connellan, and divers others of the rebels at 
Durmant, earnestly say, protest, and tell one another, 
that the blood of some of those that were knocked on 
the head and afterwards drowned at Portnedown bridge, 
still remained on the bridge, and would not be washed 
away ; and that often there appeared visions or appa- 
ritions, sometimes of men, sometimes of women, breast- 
high above the water, at or near Portnedown, which did 
most extremely and fearfully screech and ciy out for 



232 THE IRISH MASS^CRvE. 

vengeance against the Irish that had murdered their 
bodies there : and that their cries and screeches did so 
terrify the Irish thereabouts, that none durst stay or 
live longer there, but fled and removed farther into the 
country, and this was common report amongst the rebels 
there ; and that it passed for a truth amongst them, for, 
any thing she could ever observe to the contrary. 
Jurat, January 1, 1643. 

3. Katherioe, the relict of William Coke, late of the 
county of Armagh, carpenter, sworn and examined, 
saith that, about the twentieth of December, 1641, a 
great number of rebels, in that county, did most bar- 
barously drown at that time one hundred and eighty 
Protestants, men, women, and children, in that river, at 
the bridge of Portnedown ; and that, about nine days 
afterwards, she saw a vision or spirit, in the shape of a 
man, as she apprehended, that appeared in that river, in 
the place of the drowning, bolt upright, heart high, with 
hands lifted up, and stood in that place tkere, until the 
latter end of Lent next following ; about which time 
some of the English army, marching in those parts, 
whereof her husband was one (as he and they confi- 
dently affirmed to the deponent), saw that spirit or vision 
standing upright in the posture aforementioned ; but, 
after that time, the said spirit or vision vanished, and 
appeared no more that she knoweth. And she heard, 
but saw not, that there were other visions and appari- 
tions, and much screeching and strange noises heard in 
that river at times afterwards. 

Jurat, February 24, 1643. 

4. Elizabeth, the wife of Captain Rice Price, of 
Armagh, deposeth and saith that she and other women, 



THE IRISH MASSACRE. 233 

< 

whose husbands were murderers, hearing of divers ap- 
paritions and visions that were seen near Portnedown 
bridge, since the drowning of her children and the rest of 
the Protestants there, went unto the aforesaid bridge 
about twilight in the evening ; then there appeared unto 
them, upon a sudden, a vision or spirit, assuming the 
shape of a woman, waist high, upright in the water, 
naked, with elevated and closed hands, her hair hanging 
down very white, her eyes seemed to twinkle, and her 
skin as white as snow ; which spirit seemed to stand 
straight up in the water, and often repeated the words 
4 ' Revenge, revenge, revenge!" whereat this deponent 
and the rest, being put into a strong amazement, and 
affrighted, walked from the place. 
Jurat, January 29, 1642. 

5. Arthur Azlum, of Clowargher, in the county of 
Cavan, esquire, deposeth that he was credibly informed 
by some that were present there that there were thirty 
women and young children, and seven men flung into 
the river of Belturbet ; and, when some of them offered 
to swim for their lives, they were by the rebels followed 
in carts, and knocked upon the head with poles. The 
same day they hanged two women at Turbet; and this 
deponent doth verily believe that Rutmore O'Reby, the 
then sheriff, had a hand in commanding the murder of 
those said persons; for that he saw him write two notes, 
which he sent to Turbet by Bryan O'Reby, upon whose 
coming their murders were committed : and those persons 
who were present also affirmed that the bodies of those 
thirty persons drowned did not appear upon the water till 
about six weeks past ; as the said Reby came to the 
town, all the bodies came floating up to the very bridge ; 
and those persons were all formerly stayed in the town 



234 MAJOR BLOMBERG. 

by his protection, when the rest of their neighbours in 
town went away*% 

APPARITION OF MAJOR BLOMBERG TO THE GOVERNOR 
OF DOMINICA. 

Early in the American war, Major Blomberg, the 
father of Dr. Blomberg, was expected to join his regiment? 
which was at the time on service in the island of Do- 
minica. His period of absence had expired, and his 
brother officers, eagerly anticipating his return, as vessel 
after vessel arrived from England without conveying the 
looked for passenger, declared one to another, " well? 
at all events, he must come in the next." His presence 
in the island now became indispensable ; and the governor, 
impatient of so long an absence, was on the point of 
writing a remonstrance on the subject to the authorities 
in England, when, as he was sitting at night in his 
study with his secretary, and remarking on the conduct 
of the absentee, with no very favourable or lenient ex- 
pressions, a step was heard to ascend the stairs, and walk 
along the passage without. " Who can it be ?" exclaim- 
ed the governor, u intruding at so late an hour." " It 
is Blomberg' s step/' replied the secretary. " The very 
man himself," said the governor ; and, as he spoke, 
the door opened, and Major Blomberg stood before 
them. The major advanced towards the table at which 
the gentlemen were sitting, and flung himself into a chair 
opposite the governor. There was something hurried in 
his manner ; a forgetfulness of all the ordinary forms of 
greeting ; and abruptly saying : u I must converse with 
you alone :" he gave a sign for the secretary to retreat. 
The sign was obeyed. There was an air of conscious 
superiority about the manner of the visitor that admitted 

* History of the Irish Rebellion, by Sir John Temple, p, 123. 



MAJOR BLOMBERG. 235 

no dispute. ie On your return to England/' he con- 
tinued, as soon as the apartment was cleared of the 
objectionable witness, " on your return to, England, 

you will go to a farm house, near the village of , 

in Dorsetshire ; you will there find two children ; they 
are mine ; the offspring and the orphans of my secret 
marriage. Be a guardian to those parentless infants. 
To prove their legitimacy, and their consequent right to 
my property, you must demand of the woman, with 
whom they are placed at nurse, the red morocco case 
which was committed to her charge. Open it ; it con- 
tains the necessary papers. Adieu ! You will see me 
no more." Major Blomberg instantly withdrew. The 
governor of Dominica, surprised at the commission, at the 
abrupt entrance, and the abrupt departure, rang the bell 
to desire some of his household to follow the major and 
request his return. None had seen him enter : none had 
witnessed his exit. It was strange! it was passing 
strange ! There soon after arrived intelligence that Major 
Blomberg had embarked on board a vessel for Domi- 
nica, which had been dismasted in a storm at sea, and 
was supposed to have subsequently sunk, as she was 
never more heard of, about the time in which the figure 
had appeared to the governor and his secretary. 

All that Major Blomberg had communicated was 
carefully stamped in the memory of his friend. On his 
return to England, which occurred in a few months after 
the apparition above described had been seen by the 
governor, he immediately hastened to the village in 
Dorsetshire, and to the house in which the children were 
resident. 

He found them ; he asked for the casket ; it was 
immediately surrendered. The legitimacy and the 
claims of the orphans of Blomberg were established, and 



236 WESTMINSTER ABBEY VAULT. 

they were admitted to the enjoyment of their rights 
without any controversy or dispute. 

This tale was related to the late Queen Charlotte, 
and so deeply interested her, that she immediately adopted 
the son as the object of her peculiar care and favour* 
He was brought to Windsor, and educated with his 
present Majesty, of whom he has through life been the 
favourite, the companion, and the friend. 

THE ABBEY VAULT. 

In convivial circles, the weakness of mankind too 
frequently becomes the idle and sportive jest of the pass- 
ing hour. Again, among hypochondriacs, the same sub- 
ject often feeds the distempered imagination with airy 
nothings, until the soul becomes frozen and horrified, at 
the bare narration of the most simple and accountable 
facts. Of both classes, is the celebrated relation, of a 
frolicsome visit to Westminster Abbey, which is said to 
have arisen at a jovial party, where mirth had reigned 
so long, that it was thought prudent to shift the scene to 
the grave and serious. 

The jest of this story, is evidently to subvert the 
whole theory of apparitions, and a future state ; but we 
cannot for a moment be so weak as to imagine it feasible, 
that this question, which has been disputed by the wisest 
men in all ages, should be settled by a circle of topers, 
whose wits were quickened by the potent influence of 
wine and convivial mirth. 

The narrative is given by Sinclair, in his Invisible 
World, and we quote it in his own words : — 

" Five or six gentlemen, who had dined together at a 
tavern, being drawn to visit the Royal Vault in King 
Henry's Chapel, in Westminster Abbey, of the titled 
4ead : as they looked down the steep descent, by which 



WESTMINSTER ABBEY VAULT. 237 

so many monarchs had been carried to their last resting 
place on earth, one cried, 'Tin* hellish dark ; — another 
stopped his nostrils, and exclaimed against the noisome 
vapour that ascended from it. All had their different 
sayings, but as .it is natural for such spectacles to excite 
some moral reflections, even in the most gay and giddy, 
they all returned with countenances more serious than 
those with which they had entered. 

" Having agreed, however, to pass the evening together, 
they all returned to the place where they had dined, 
and the conversation turning on a future state, and appa- 
ritions; one among them, w T ho was an infidel in these 
matters, especially as to spirits becoming visible, took 
upon himself to rally the others, who seemed rather 
inclined to the contrary opinion. 

ct At length, to end the contest, they proposed him a 
wager of twenty guineas, that great a hero as he pre- 
tended, or really imagined himself, he had not courage 
enough to go alone, at midnight, into the vault of Henry 
the Seventh's chapel. This he readily accepted, and 
was quite elated with the prospect of success. 

" The money on both sides was deposited in the hands 
of the landlord of the house ; and one of the vergers of the 
Abbey was sent for, whom they engaged, to attend the 
adventurous gentleman to the gate of the cathedral, 
then to shut him in and wait his return. 

" Every thing being thus settled, the clock no sooner 
struck twelve than they all set out together ; those who 
laid the wager being resolved not to be imposed upon by 
his tampering with the verger. Another scruple arose ; 
which was, that though they saw him enter the chapel, 
how they should be convinced that he went as far as 
the vault; but he instantly removed it by pulling out a 
penknife he had in his pocket : — f This/ said he, ' will I 



238 WESTMINSTER ABBEY VAULT. 

stick into the earth, and leave it there, and if you do not 
find it in the inside of the vault, I will own the wager 
lost.' 

" These words left them nothing to suspect, and they 
agreed to wait for him at the door, beginning now to 
believe he had no less resolution than he had pretended. 

" Every step he took was echoed by the hollow ground, 
and though it was not altogether dark, the verger having 
left a lamp burning just before the door that led to the 
chapel, yet the faint glimmering it gave, rather added to, 
than diminished, the solemnity of the scene. 

u At length, sometimes groping hisway, and sometimes 
directed by the distant lamp, he reached the entrance of 
the vault:: — his inward tremor increased, yet determined 
not to be overpowered by it, he descended, and having 
reached the last stair, stopped forward, and stuck his 
penknife into the earth ; but as he was rising, to turn 
back and leave the vault, he felt something, as he 
thought, suddenly catch hold of him, and pluck him 
forward ; he lost in an instant every thing that could 
support him, and fell into a swoon, with his head in the 
vault, and part of his body on the stairs. 

" His friends waited patiently till one o'clock, when not 
making his appearance, they debated among themselves 
what they should do in the affair; the verger they 
found, though accustomed to the place, did not care to 
go alone ; therefore they resolved to accompany him, 
and accordingly, preceded by a torch, which a footman 
belonging to one of the company had with him, they 
went into the abbey, calling loudly for him as they pro- 
ceeded. 

" No answer, however, being returned, they moved on 
til) they came to the stairs of the vault, where looking 
down they soon saw the condition he was in; — they 



WESTMINSTER ABBEY VAULT. 239 

immediately ran to him, rubbed his temples, and did 
every thing they could think of to restore him, but 
all in vain, till they got out of the abbey, when the 
fresh air recovered him. 

" After two or three deep groans, he cried, ( Heaven help 
me ; Lord have mercy upon me/ which surprised his 
friends; but imagining he was not yet perfectly come to 
his senses, they forbore saying any thing to him till they 
had got him into a tavern, where, having placed him in 
a chair by the fire side, they began to enquire into his 
situation, on which he acquainted them with the ap- 
prehensions he was seized with immediately after he 
had left them, and that having stuck his penkife into 
the floor of the vault, according to his agreement, he 
was about to return with all possible haste when 
something plucked him forward into the vault ; but he 
added that he had neither seen nor heard any thing but 
that his reason might easily account for, and should 
have returned with the same sentiments he went, had 
not this unseen hand convinced him of the injustice of 
his unbelief. 

• ; One of the company now saw the penknife sticking 
through the fore lappet of his coat, on which presently 
conjecturing the truth, and finding how deeply affected his 
friend was by his mistake, as indeed were all the rest, not 
doubting but his return had been impeded by a supernatural 
hand, he plucked out the penknife before them all, and 
said * here is the mystery discovered : in the attitude of 
stooping to stick this into the ground, it happened, 
as you see, to pass through the coat, and on your 
attempting to rise, the terror you were in magnified this 
little obstruction into an imaginary impossibility of with- 
drawing yourself.' 

6t His friends now ridiculed his credulity, but the singu- 
larity of this accident did not shake his faith." 



240 THE DISOBEDIENT SON. 

The sacred importance which we attach to the clergy, 
is indeed one of the best features of our national cha- 
racter : but the moment this respect is overstrained, we 
expose ourselves to the evils of priestcraft, a curse which 
protestants are taught to believe, as the most inveterate 
enemy to the happiness of mankind. Thus it is with 
churches and consecrated buildings. Lord Bacon justly 
observes that " men fear death as children fear to go in 
the dark." Hence churches are always associated with 
death, and churchyards with melancholy and despair. — 
But why look at one side of the picture only : 

*' Pompa mortis magis terret quam mors ipsa.'" 

Philosophy will therefore reconcile us to the deepest 
vaults of a church, as reasonably as a thirst for amuse- 
ment will lead us to seek the recreations of the theatre : 
and it is only during the absence or inactivity of this 
reasoning power, that we shall continue to regard 
churches and churchyards as objects of monkish 
terror. 

THE DISOBEDIENT SON. 

About the year 1796, a young gentleman of good 
birth and fortune, having a great inclination to see the 
world, resolved to go into the army. His father was 
dead, and had left him a good estate, besides his mo- 
ther's jointure, which at her death would consequently 
fall to him. 

His mother earnestly intreated him not to go into 
the army, but persuaded him rather to travel, by which 
means the calamities and hazards of war might be 
avoided. He however slighted her intreaties, and at 
length mortgaged part of his estate to purchase a 
company in the first regiment of guards, which he 
effected. 



THE DISOBEDIENT SON. 241 

The night before he signed the agreement for the 
company, being in bed and fast asleep, he saw in a 
dream his father approach him in his gown, and with a 
great fur cap on, such as he was accustomed to wear ; 
calling him by his name, he said, what is the reason 
that you will not listen to the entreaties of your mother 
to relinquish all ideas of the army. I assure you, that 
if you resolve to take this commission, you will not 
enjoy it three years. 

He seemed to slight the admonition, and said, it was 
too late to retract. — Too late! too late! said the old 
man, repeating those words; then go on, and repent too 
late. — He was not much affected with this apparition, 
when he waked, and found it was but a dream ; but 
bought the commission. 

A few days afterwards the father appeared to his 
mother, in a dream as to her son ; and noticing his 
obstinacy, added, — " Young heads are wilful ; Robert 
will go into the army ; but tell him from me, he shall 
never come back." 

These notices were of no avail with the son ; and two 
battalions of his regiment going into the field that 
summer, his company was one, and was ordered into 
Flanders. 

He acquitted himself bravely, in several warm actions. 
One day, in the third year of his service, the army 
being drawn out in order of battle, the General had re- 
ceived advice that the enemy were about to attack them. 
As he stood at the head of his company, he was 
suddenly seized with a cold shivering fit, which w<*s so 
violent, as to be noticed by some officers who were 
near him. It continued about a quarter of an hour, 
and the enemy did come on as was expected ; but the 
fight began upon the left, at a good distauce from them, 

M 



242 THE YATTON DEMONIAC. 

so that the whole left wing was engaged before they 
began. 

While this lasted, the lieutenant called to the gentle- 
man; Colonel, how are you ? I hope your shivering 
fit is over. — No, said the Colonel, it is not over, but it 
is somewhat better. — It will be all over presently, said 
the lieutenant. 

Ay, so it will, said the colonel : I am very easy, I 
know what it was now ; he then called the lieutenant, 
to whom he said, I know now what ailed me, I am 
very easy, I have seen my father ; I shall be killed the 
first volley ; let my mother know I told you this. 

In a few minutes after this, a body of the enemy 
advanced, and the first volley the regiment received, 
was the fire of five platoons of grenadiers, by which the 
captain and several other officers, besides private men, 
were killed, and the whole brigade was soon after thrown 
into confusion ; though being supported by some regi- 
ments of the second line, they rallied again soon after. 
The captain's body was presently recovered; but he 
was dead, having received a shot in his face. 

THE YATTON DEMONIACv 

In the year 1788, considerable interest was excited 
throughout the county of Somerset, by the extraordi- 
nary case of one George Lukins, who was said to have 
been possessed of evil spirits for nearly eighteen years. 
The subject was at first treated as an impostor, but 
much controversy and sceptical dispute arising, several 
illiberal ex parte statements appeared in the Bristol Ga- 
zette and Bath Chronicle. At length, the evidence and 
circumstances were collected by the Rev. Joseph Easter- 
brook, the Vicar of Temple Church, Bristol, of which 
the following narrative is the substance :— 



THE YATTON DEMONIAC. 243 

" On Saturday May 31st, 1788, Mrs. Sarah Baber 
called on me, acquainting me that she had just returned 
from a visit to Yatton, in the county of Somerset, where 
she had found a poor man afflicted with an extraordi- 
nary malady. She said his name was George Lukins ; 
that he had fits daily during her stay at Yatton, in 
which he sang and screamed in various sounds, some of 
which did not resemble the modifications of a human 
voice ; that he cursed and swore in a most tremendous 
manner, while in his fits, and declared that doctors 
could do him no service. She likewise said, that she 
could take upon her to affirm, that he had been subject 
to fits of a very uncommon nature, for the last eighteen 
years, for the cure of which he had been placed for a 
considerable time under the care of Mr. Smith, an emi- 
nent surgeon of Wrington, who administered all the 
assistance in his power, without effect : many other 
medical gentlemen, she said, had in like manner tried to 
help him, but in vain. Most of the people about Yatton 
then conceived him to be bewitched ; but latterly he 
had himself declared that he was possessed of seven 
devils, and that nothing would avail but the united 
prayers of seven clergymen, who could ask deliverance 
for him in faith ; but seven could not be procured in that 
neighbourhood to meet his ideas, and try the experi- 
ment : she therefore earnestly requested me to go to 
Yatton to see him. 

» - .« * * *...;* 

H I consented that George Lukins should be brought 
to me ; little expecting that an attention to his pitiable 
case, would have produced such a torrent of opposition, 
and illiberal abuse upon the parties concerned in his relief. 

" In compliance with my promise to Mrs. Baber, I 
applied to such of the clergy of the established church, 
m2 



244 THE YATTON DEMONIAC. 

as I conceived to be most cordial in co-operating in 
benevolent acts, namely, to the Rev. Mr. Symes; 
Rector of St. Werburgh's ; the Rev. Dr. Robins, Pre- 
centor of the Cathedral ; and the Rev. Mr. Brown, 
Rector of Portishead ; requesting that these gentlemen 
would with me attend a meeting for prayer iu behalf 
of this object of commiseration; but though they ac- 
knowledged it as their opinion, that his was a superna- 
tural affliction, I could not prevail upon them to join 
with me, in this attempt to relieve him. And as these 
gentlemen rejected my application, it appeared to me, 
that there was no rational ground of hope for more 
success, with those of my brethren, who were less dis- 
posed to admit the doctrine of the influence of good and 
evil spirits. 

The more frequently I saw and heard of the misery 
which George Lukins experienced, the more I pitied 
him, and being unwilling to dismiss him from Bristol 
till some effort had been made for his recovery, I next 
desired certain persons in connection with the Rev. Mr* 
Wesley to attend a prayer meeting on his account ; 
to which request they readily acceded. Accordingly a 
meeting was appointed Friday morning the 13th of 
June, at eleven o'clock. And as the most horrible 
noises usually proceeded from him in his fits, it was 
suggested that the vestry-room of Temple church, which 
is bounded by the church-yard, was the most retired 
place that could be found in Temple parish ; and for 
that reason that situation was preferred to any other, it 
being our design to conduct this business with as much 
secrecy as possible. But we soon found that our design 
in this respect was rendered abortive; for on Wednesday 
evening the 11th of June, there was published in the 
Bristol Gazette, an ingenious letter from the Bath 
Chronicle, from which the following ^s an extract : — 



THE YATTON DEMONIAC. 245 

Ti About eighteen years ago George Lukins, going about the 
neighbourhood with other young fellows, acting Christmas 
plays or mummeries, suddenly fell down senseless, and was 
with great difficulty recovered. When he came to himself, 
the account he gave was, that he seemed at the moment of his 
fall to have received a violent blow from the hand of some 
person, who, as he thought, was allowed thus to punish him 
for acting a part in the play. From that moment, he has been 
subject, at uncertain and different periods, to fits of a most 
singular and dreadful nature. The first symptom is a power- 
ful agitation of the right hand, to which succeed terrible 
distortions of the countenance. The influence of the fit has 
then commenced. He declares in a roaring voice that he is 
the devil, who with many horrid execrations summons about 
him certain persons devoted to his will, and commands them to 
torture this unhappy patient with all the diabolijcal means in 
their power. The supposed demon then directs his servants 
to sing. Accordingly the patient sings in a different voice a 
jovial hunting song, which, having received the approbation 
of the fovl fiend, is succeeded by a song in a female voice, 
very delicately expressed ; and this is followed, at the parti- 
cular injunction of the demon, by a pastoral song in the form 
of a dialogue, sung by, and in the real character of, the patient 
himself. After a pause and more violent distortions, he again 
personates the demon, and sings in a hoarse, frightful voice 
another hunting song. But in all these songs, whenever any 
expression of goodness, benevolence, or innocence, occurs in 
the original, it is regularly changed to another of its opposite 
meaning ; neither can the patient bear to hear any good words 
whatever, nor any expression relating to the church, during 
the influence of his fit, but is exasperated by them into blas- 
phemy and outrage. Neither can he speak or write any 
expressions of this tendency, whilst the subsequent weakness 
of his fits is upon him ; but is driven to madness by their 
mention. Having performed the songs, he continues to per- 
sonate the demon, and derides the attempts which the patient 
has been making to get out of his power, that he will perse- 
cute and torment him more and more to the end of his life, 
and that all the efforts of parsons and physicians shall prove 



246 THE YATTON DEMONIAC. 

fruitless. An inverted Te Deum is then sung in the alternate 
voices of a man and woman, who with much profaneness thank 
the demon for having given them power over the patient, 
which they will continue to exercise as long as he lives. The 
demon then concludes the ceremony, by declaring his unal- 
terable resolution to punish him for ever : and after barking 
fiercely, and interspersing many assertions of his own diabo- 
lical dignity, the fit subsides into the same strong agitation of 
the hand that introduced it, and the patient recovers from its 
influence, utterly weakened and exhausted. At certain pe- 
riods of the fit, he is so violent, that an assistant is always 
obliged to be at hand, to restrain him from committing some 
injury on himself; though to the spectators he is perfectly 
harmless. He understands all that is said and done during 
his fits, and will even reply sometimes to questions asked 
him. He is under the influence of these paroxysms generally 
near an hour, during which time his eyes are fast closed. 
Sometimes he fancies himself changed into the form of an 
animal, when he assumes all the motions and sounds that are 
peculiar to it. From the execrations he utters it may be 
presumed, that he is or was of an abandoned and profligate 
character, but the reverse is the truth; he was ever of a 
remarkably innocent and inoffensive disposition. Every me- 
thod that the variety of persons who have come to see him 
have suggested, every effort of some very ingenious gentle- 
men of the faculty who applied their serious attention to 
his case, has been long ago and recently exerted without 
success; and some years ago he was sent to St. George's 
Hospital, where he remained about twenty weeks, and was 
pronounced incurable. The emaciated and exhausted figure 
that he presents, the number of years that he has been subject 
to this malady, and the prospect of want and distress that lies 
before him, through being thus disabled from following his 
business ; all preclude the suspicion of imposture. His life is 
become a series of intense anxiety ." 

Wrington, June 5, 1788. W. R. W. 

This letter attracted the notice of the citizens ; and it 
having been made known, that a prayer meeting -on 



THK TATTON DEMONIAC. 247 

'Friday morning was to be held in the vestry-room of 
Temple church, for the man who was the subject of 
that letter, a considerable number of people planted 
themselves upon the walls of the vestry-room, and 
heard part of the prayers, the singing, the conversation, 
and the wonderful sounds which proceeded from George 
Lukins, and carried some account of these circumstances 
to a printer, w T ho instantly dispatched papers upon the 
subject, through the streets of Bristol, and its vicinage. 
Similar papers were shortly carried through the streets 
of Bath, and London, and through many other parts of 
the country ; so that contrary to our design the affair 
was in this manner brought before the public. -< 

On Friday morning, June 13, fourteen gentlemen, 
accompanied by George Lukins, met at the vestry- 
room at Temple-church, at eleven o'clock, to pray for 
the relief of this afflicted man, when the following cere- 
mony took place : — 

1. They began singing an hymn, on which the man was 
immediately thrown into strange agitations, (very different 
from his usual seizures) his face was variously distorted, and 
his whole body strongly convulsed. His right hand and arm 
then began to shake with violence, and after some violent 
throes, he spake in a deep, hoarse, hollow voice, personating 
an invisible agent, calling the man to an account, and upbraid- 
ing him as a fool for bringing that silly company together : 
said it was to no purpose, and swore " by his infernal den," 
that he would never quit his hold of him, but would torment 
him a thousand times worse for making this vain attempt. 

2. He then began to sing in his usual manner, (still 'person- 
ating some invisible agent J blaspheming, boasted of his power, 
and vowed eternal vengeance on the miserable object, and on 
those present for daring to oppose him ; and commanded his 
" faithful and obedient servants " to appear and take their 
stations. 



248 THE YATTON DEMONIAC. 

5. He then spoke in a female voice, expressive of scorn 
and derision, and demanded to know why the fool had 
brought such a company there ? And swore " by the devil " 
that he would not quit his hold of him, and bid defiance to 
and cursed all, who should attempt to rescue the miserable 
object from them. He then sung, in the same female voice, a 
love song, at the conclusion of which he was violently tor- 
tured, and repeated most horrible imprecations. 

4. Another invisible agent came forth, assuming a different 
voice, but his manner much the same as the preceding one. 
A kind of dialogue was then sung in a hoarse and soft voice 
alternately : at the conclusion of which, as before, the man 
was thrown into violent agonies, and blasphemed in a manner 
too dreadful to be expressed. 1 

5. He then personated, and said, " I am the great Devil ;" 
and after much boasting of his power, and bidding defiance to 
all his opposers, sung a kind of hunting song ; at the con- 
clusion of which he was most violently tortured, so that it 
was with difficulty that two strong men could hold him 
(though he is but a small man, and very weak in constitution;) 
sometimes he would set up a hideous laugh, and at other 
times bark in a manner indescribably horrid. 

6. After this he summoned all the infernals to appear, and 
drive the company away. And while the ministers were 
engaged in fervent prayer, he sung a Te Deum to the devil, 
in different voices,— saying, " We praise thee, O devil ; we 
acknowledge thee to be the supreme governor," &c. &c. 

7. When the noise was so great as to obstruct the company 
proceeding in prayer, they sang together an hymn suitable to 
the occasion. Whilst they were in prayer, the voice which 
personated the great Devil bid them defiance, cursing and 
vowing dreadful vengeance on all present. One in the com- 
pany commanded him in the name of the great Jehovah to 
declare his name? To which he replied, "I am the Devil." 
The same person then charged him in the name of Jehovah 
to declare why he tormented the man ? To which he made 
answer, " That I may shew my power amongst men." 

8. The poor man still remained in great agonies and tor» 



THE YATTON DEMONIAC. 249 

ture, and prayer was continued for his deliverance. A cler- 
gyman present desired him to endeavour to speak the name 
of " Jesus," and several times repeated it to him, at all of 
which he replied " Devil/' During this attempt a small faint 
voice was heard saying, " Why don't you adjure?" On 
vhich the clergyman commanded, in the name of Jesus, and 
in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, the 
evil spirit to depart from the man ; which he repeated several 
times ; — when a voice was heard to say, " Must I give up my 
power ?" and this was followed by dreadful howlings. Soon 
after another voice, as with astonishment, said, " Our master 
has deceived us." — The clergyman still continuing to repeat 
the adjuration, a voice was heard to say, " Where shall we 
go ?" and the reply was, " To hell, thine own infernal den, 
and return no more to torment this man." On this the man's 
agitations and distortions were stronger than ever, attended 
with the most dreadful howling that can be conceived. But 
as soon as this conflict was over, he said, in his own natural 
voice, " Blessed Jesus !" became quite serene, immediately 
praised God for his deliverance, and kneeling down said the 
Lord's prayer, and returned his most devout thanks to all 
who were present. 

The meeting broke up a little before one o'clock, having 
lasted near two hours, and the man went away entirely deli- 
vered, and has had no return of the disorder since. 

(Mr. Easterhrook then proceeds to give a variety of well 
authenticated documents substantiating the whole of the 
above circumstantial narrative.) t 

Lukins was visited by several persons of distinction, 
all of whom bore testimony to the foregoing circum- 
stances. The extravagance of his language, and his 
blasphemous ravings were appalling. 

Several pamphlets were published on the subject, 
but the narrative of Mr. Easterbrook is in every respect 
supported by authorities of unquestionable veracity, 
and recommended by its perspicuous and intelligible 
details. 

M 3 



250 



OMINOUS SWORDS. 



A young nobleman, of high hopes and fortune, 
chanced to lose his way in the town which he inha- 
bited, the capital of a German province; he had acci- 
dentally involved himself among the narrow and winding 
streets of a suburb, inhabited by the lowest order of the 
people, and an approaching thunder shower determined 
him to ask a short refuge in the most decent habitation 
that was near him. He knocked at the door, which 
was opened by a tall man, of a grisly and ferocious 
aspect, and sordid dress. The stranger was readily 
ushered to a chamber, where swords, scourges, and 
machines, which seemed to be implements of torture, 
were suspended on the wall. One of these swords 
dropped from its scabbard, as the nobleman, after a 
moment's hesitation crossed the threshold* His host 
immediately stared at him, with such marked expres- 
sion, that the young man could not help demanding his 
name and business, and the meaning of his looking at 
him so fixedly. u I am," answered the man, " the 
public executioner of this city ; and the incident you 
have observed is a sure augury, that I shall, in 
discharge of my duty, one day cut off your head with 
the weapon which has just now spontaneously un- 
sheathed itself.^ The nobleman lost no time in leaving 
his place of refuge ; but engaging in some plots of the 
period, was shortly after decapitated by that very man 
and instrument. 

Lord Lovat is said, by the author of the Letters from 
Scotland, to have affirmed, that a number of sword* 
that hung up in the hall of the mansion-house, leaped 
of themselves out of the scabbard at the instant he was 
born. This story passed current among his clan, and 



IiADT PANSHAW. 251 

/like (hat of the story just quoted, proved an unfortunate 
omen. 

APPARITION TO LADY PANSHAW. 

Supernatural intimations of approaching fate, says 
Sir Walter Scott, are not, I believe, confined to highland 
families. Howel mentions having seen at a lapidary's, 
in J 632, a monumental stone, prepared for four persons 
of the name of Oxenham, before the death of each of 
whom, the inscription stated a white bird to have 
appeared and fluttered around the bed, while the patient 
was in the last agony. Familiar Letters, Edit. 1726, 
p. 247. Glanville mentions one family, the members of 
which received this solemn sign by music, the sound of 
which floated from the family residence, and seemed to 
die in a neighbouring wood ; another, that of Captain 
Wood of Bampton, to whom the signal was given by 
knocking. 

But the most remarkable instance of presentiment of 
death occurs in the MS. memoirs of Lady Fanshaw, so 
exemplary for her conjugal affection. Her husband* 
Sir Richard, and she, chanced, during their abode in 
Ireland, to visit a friend, the head of a sept, who resided 
in his ancient baronial castle, surrounded with a moat. 
At midnight, she was awakened by a ghastly and super- 
natural scream, and looking out of bed, beheld by the 
moonlight, a female face and part of the form, hovering 
at the window. The distance from the ground, as well 
as the circumstance of the moat, excluded the possibility 
that what she beheld was of this world. The face was 
that of a young and rather handsome woman, but pale, 
and the hair, which was reddish, loose and dishevelled. 
The dress, which Lady Fanshaw's terror did not prevent 



252 PHILIP MELANCTHOtf, 

her remarking accurately, was that of the ancient Irish* 
This apparition continued to exhibit itself for some- time, 
and then vanished with two shrieks similar to that 
which had first excited Lady Fanshaw's attention. In 
the morning, with infinite terror, she communicated to 
her host what she had witnessed, and found him pre- 
pared not only to credit but to account for the apparition. 
" A near relative of my family/' said he, " expired last 
night in the castle. We disguised our certain expec- 
tation of the event from you, lest it should throw a cloud 
over the cheerful reception which was your due. Now, 
before such an event happens in this family and castle, 
the female spectre whom you have seen always is visible. 
She is believed to be the spirit of a woman of inferior 
rank, whom one of my ancestors degraded himself by 
marrying, and whom afterwards, to expiate the dis- 
honour done to his family, he caused to be drowned ,m 
the castle moat." 

APPARITION TO PHILIP MELANCTHON. 

The name of Melancthon, as the intimate friend and 
distinguished coadjutor of Martin Luther, in the glorious 
work of the Reformation, must be dear to every en- 
lightened Protestant ; and his labours as a reformer and 
scholar rank him among the brightest ornaments of 
religion and literature. 

The merits of this good and great man have been set 
forth in a work of considerable worth, by F. A. Cox, 
A.M. In the course of his interesting biographical 
narrative, he gives the following relation of an incident 
which occurred at the second Diet of Spires, convened 
in the year 1529. 

A curious circumstance, says Mr. Cox, oocurred At 



PHILIP ^EI^XTHON. 253 

this convocation, which Melancthon relates in his com- 
mentary on the angelic appearance mentioned in the 
tenth chapter of Daniel, and which he affirms was but 
one out of many of a similar nature, which he could 
fully authenticate. The case was briefly this : Simon 
Grynaeus, a very intimate friend of his, and at this 
period a Greek professor in the University of Heidelberg, 
who combined profound erudition with zealous piety, 
came over unexpectedly to see him at Spires. He ven- 
tured to encounter Faber the Catholic Bishop of Vienna, 
and to urge him closely on some topics in discussion 
between the Catholics and the Reformers. The bishop, 
who was plausible, but shallow, fearful of engaging in 
argument, but cruelly ready to use the sword, pretended 
that private business with the king required his atten- 
tion at that moment, but that he felt extremely desirous 
of the friendship of Grynaeus, and of another opportu- 
nity of discussing the controverted points. No dissem- 
bler himself, Grynaeus returned to his friends with- 
out suspicion of the wily courtier's intentions-: nor 
could any of them have known it, but for what Melanc- 
thon deemed a supernatural interference. They were 
just sitting down to supper, and Grynaeus had related 
part of the conversation between himself and the bishop, 
when Melancthon was suddenly called out of the room 
to an old man whom he had never seen or heard of, or 
could afterwards discover ; characterized by a most 
observable peculiarity of manner and dress, and who 
said, that persons by the king's authority, would soon 
arrive to seize Grynaeus, and put him in prison, Faber 
having influenced him to this persecuting measure. He 
enjoined, that instant means should be adopted to secure 
the departure of Grynaeus to a place of safety, and 



254 MRS. BARGRAVE AND MRS. VEAL. 

urged that there should not be a moment's delay. Upon 
communicating this information he immediately with- 
drew. Melancthon and his friends instantly bestirred 
themselves, and saw him safe across the Rhine, It 
afterwards appeared, that the king's messengers were 
in the house almost as soon as they had left it, but 
Grynaeus was out of the reach of danger ; a danger as 
Melancthon remarks, easily imagined by those who were 
acquainted with Faber's cruelty. He says, they were 
all of opinion that this was a divine interposition, so 
singular was the appearance of the old man, and so 
rapid the movements of the instrument of vengeance, 
from whose power Grynaeus scarcely escaped. 

Such is the narrative which the reader is put in pos- 
session of without note or comment. Some will think 
it supernatural, others will exclaim, Credat Judceus 
Apella, and many perhaps will consider it, though re- 
markable, capable of explanation, without allowing it 
to have been miraculous. The use Melancthon makes 
of the statement, must be admitted to be worthy of his 
exalted piety ; " Let us," says he, " be grateful to 
God, who sends his angels to be our protectors, and let 
us with increased tranquillity of mind, fulfil the duties 
assigned us." — Cox's Life of Melancthon, p. 277. 

It should be added, that no subsequent discovery was 
made of the identity of the old man, who thus preserved 
the Reformer and his fellow labourers ; nor did circum- 
stances, in the slightest degree, tend to invalidate tho 
. above conclusion. 

APPARITION OF MRS. BARGRAVE TO MRS. VEAL, AT 
CANTERBURY. 

The credit of the following narrative has been much 
depreciated by tjiose who have erroneously considered 



MRS. BARGRAVE AND MRS, VEAL. 255 

it as a mere fable prefixed to Drelincourt's Treatise on 
Death,* owing to the circumstance of that book being 
preferred by Mrs. Veal, one of the parties. The pub- 
lisher to promote the sale of Drelincourt's work, printed 
an incorrect and garbled edition of this narrative, with 
irreconcileable inconsistencies ; which has made the affair 
pass as a mere stratagem of trade. These imperfections 
will be evident on a comparison of the following ori- 
ginal statement, with that prefixed to Drelincourt's 
work. Thus, it is illiberal and unjust to decide on 
its credibility, merely because it has been pirated witli 
interested motives.f 

Mrs. Margaret Veal, and Mrs. Mary Bargrave, (be- 
fore her marriage called Lodowick) had contracted an 
affectionate intimacy in their younger years, at which 
time the father of one was customer, and that of the 
other minister of Dover. 



* The motives of the author in this work, are unquestionably 
-those of a sincere Christian, who has the interest of his fellow- 
creatures at heart. We now see it in the cottages of the labouring 
poor ; but its influence is neither restrained to the noble, the opulent, 
or the needy ; since by placing death, or a temporary cessation 
or suspension of existence, in a proper point of view, it encourages 
and supports man in his severest trials. The character and eccen- 
tricities of the late Duke of Norfolk are well known. His life was 
one round of gaiety and pleasurable licence, by which means he 
shortened his career, and thus deprived mankind of the benefit of 
his useful talents. He died in St. James's Square, December, 1815 ; 
but remorse overtook him ere he left his darling world ; and it is a 
well authenticated fact, that only a few hours previous to his death, 
he requested that his servant might be dispatched to his bookseller^ 
in Pall Mall, to procure a copy of Drelincourt's Treatise on 
Death. 

t This story was fabricated by De Foe, the ingenious author of 
Robinson Crusoe. 



256 MRS. BARGRAVE AND MRS. VEAL. 

This friendship, as it served the true ends, was of use 
to Mrs. Veal in one particular, for when her father by 
his extravagance had reduced his family, she found a 
seasonable relief from it in her necessity. 

Besides this, Mrs. Bargrave was instrumental to her 
better fortune, for by her interest with a gentleman, 
one Mr. Boyce, her relation, Mrs. Veal's brother was 
recommended to Archbishop Tillotson, by whom he 
was .introduced to Queen Mary ; and her Majesty, for 
his relation by the mother to the Hyde family, gave 
him the post of comptroller of the cuvstoms at Dover, 
which place he enjoyed to his death. 

Time and change of circumstances on both sides had 
interrupted their friendship for some years ; and Mrs. 
Bargrave, by being half a year in London, and after- 
wards settling at Canterbury, had neither seen nor 
heard from Mrs. Veal for a year and a half. 

Mrs. Veal, some time before her death, received the 
addresses of a gentleman of the army, Major General 
Sibourg (a natural son of the Duke of Scomberg) 
killed in the battle of Moris, and was engaged so far, 
that her brother's not consenting to it, is believed to have 
brought on those fits, which were the cause of her 
death. She died at Dover, on Friday, in the month of 
September, 1705. 

On Saturday, a little before twelve in the morning, 
Mrs. Bargrave being by herself in her own house at 
Canterbury, as she was taking her work in her hand, 
heard somebody knock at the door; and going out, to 
her astonishment, found it to be her old friend Mrs. 
Veal. 

After expressing her surprise to see so great a stran- 
ger, she offered to salute her, which the other declined, 



*IRS. BARGRAVE AND MRS. VEAL. 257 

as it were, by hanging down her head, and saying, she 
was not well, on which Mrs. Bargrave desired her to 
walk in and sit down, which she did. 

She was dressed in a silk dove-coloured riding gown, 
with French night-clothes ; she appeared expressly the 
same, as in her lifetime, and Mrs. Bargrave remem- 
bered to have heard her steps distinctly as she walked in. 

Mrs. Bargrave began by asking where she was going 
in that dress ? She answered she was going her 
journey, which the other concluded to be to Tunbridge, 
where she went every year for the benefit of her 
health ; and said, you are going to the old place. 

Mrs. Veal being never trusted abroad without attend- 
ance, on account of her fits, she asked how she came 
alone from her uncle's : (meaning one Captain Watson 
in Canterbury, with whom she always lodged.) She 
replied, she had given them the slip to see her. She 
then asked how she came to find her out in such a 
house, being reduced by her husband's extravagance to 
take up with a much smaller one than she had been 
accustomed to ? To which the other made answer, she 
should find her out any w T here. 

Mrs. Bargrave's husband was a barrister, who dis- 
sipated his money in excesses ; and as he was the 
worst of husbands, his wife had gone through a long 
course of ill usage, which was in a great measure un- 
known to the world. The use of this is to shew one 
end of Mrs. Veal's visit, which seems to be to give her 
the relief they had often communicated to each other 
in the course of their friendship. 

Mrs. Veal then began with Mrs. Bargrave, by ask- 
ing her what was the matter with her, that she looked 
so ill ? She replied, she had been thinking on her mis- 
fortunes. I must now act the part you did to me 



258 MRS. BARGRAVE AND MRS. VEAL, 

under my misfortunes, (said Mrs. Veal) I must comfort 
you as you used to do me. J would have you by no 
means think that God Almighty is displeased with you ; 
but that his intention is only to try and perfect you 5 
for God does not afflict willingly, nor grieve the chil- 
dren of men. Besides, one moment's happiness of the 
other world, will be more than a reward for all your 
sufferings, when as upon a hill you shall be above all 
the storms and dangers of a troublesome world. She 
proceeded in this manner with unusual vehemence, and 
striking her hand often on her knees, she cried, you must 
believe it. 

Mrs. Bargrave being so earnestly pressed, asked if 
she did not think she believed it ? To which she re- 
plied, no doubt but you do ; but you must believe it 
thoroughly. 

Mrs. Bargrave, moved with the "discourse, chanced, 
by a turn of the chair, to throw down from a shelf, 
Drelincourt's Treatise of the Christian's defence against 
the fears of death, which gave the first hint to tell her, 
there was Drelin court, which they had so often read 
together. I see, said Mrs. Veal, you keep on your 
old way of reading, which if you continue to do, will 
not fail to bring you to the happy condition he speaks 
of. The other mentioning Dr. Sherlock and some 
others on that subject, she said, Drelincourt had the^ 
clearest notion of death, and that neither Dr. Sherlock, 
nor any other on that subject, were to be compared with 
him, (as she expressed it) to her understanding.* Dear 
Mrs. Bargrave, said she, if the eyes of our faith were 
but as open as the eyes of our bodily senses, we should 

* This partial allusion to Drelincourt's book, has suggested the . 
fabricated statements which have tended to invalidate the report of 
the narrative. 



ifRS. BARGRAVE AXD MRS. VEAL. 259 

see innumerable angels about us fur our guard ; but our 
notions of heaven are nothing like what it is, as Dre~ 
lincourt says. Believe me, my dear friend, one moment 
of future happiness will be more than amends for all 
your suffering; nor yet can T believe that God will 
suffer you to spend all your days in this afflicted con- 
dition, but be assured your sufferings will leave you, 
or you them in a short time, therefore be comforted 
under them, and be assured, that God Almighty has a 
particular regard for you ; that they are marks of his 
favour, and when they have done the business they w 7 ere 
sent for, they will be removed. Mrs. Bargrave, speak- 
ing how dark such a condition as hers was, that had 
no ease at present; she said, at the worst these storms 
would be recompensed by the reception she would meet 
with in her father's house, and from the 57th of Isaiah, 
" that God would 'not contend for ever, nor be always 
wrath, for the spirit should fall before him, and the souls 
which he had made." Mrs. Bargrave's husband dying 
about tw T o years after that event, made her reflect on 
this part of her discourse, as pointing to her deliverance. 
In the course of conversation, Mrs. Veal entered 
upon the subject of friendship, and saying there was 
now little friendship in the world ; the other replied, 
she hoped she herself had no reason to complain of every 
one being a friend to the rich ; I mean, said Mrs. Veal, 
such a friendship as you and I had to improve one 
another id what is useful. What did you think of my 
friendship, said Mrs. Veal, which I am sure has not at all 
repaid what I owe you ? If you can forgive me, 
you are the best hearted creature in the world. Mrs. 
Bargrave replied, do not mention such a thing, I have 
not had an uneasy thought about it ; I can forgive 
you. But what did you think of me? said Mrs. Veal. 



200 MRS. BARGRAVE ANT) MRS. VEAI,. 

I thought, replied Mrs. Bargrave, that, like the rest of 
the world, prosperity had likewise altered you. I have 
been, said Mrs. Veal, the most ungrateful wretch in the 
world, and then recounted many of the kindnesses she 
had received from her in her adversity, saying, she 
wished her brother knew how she was troubled about 
it. Being asked why she did not acquaint her brother of 
it, if it was such a trouble to her, she said she did not 
think of it till she came away. 

To divert the discourse, Mrs. Bargrave asked her if 
she had seen a copy of verses of Mr. Norris's, on Friend- 
ship, in a dialogue between Damon and Eithias. She 
said she had seen other parts of his works, but not 
that : Mrs. [Bargrave said, I have them of my own 
writing, and the other desiring to see them, she went 
up stairs and brought them to her to read ; but Mrs. 
Veal said, it is your own scrawl, pray read it your- 
self, holding down my head will make it ache ; Mrs. 
Bargrave then read them. There was a passage " that 
friendship survives even death," which the other de- 
sired to have repeated, and said, Mrs. Bargrave, these 
poets call heaven by a strange name, tlia,t is Elysium ; 
and added, with particular emphasis, that their friend* 
ship should have no end in a future world. 

Mrs. Veal asked her what was become of her hus- 
band ? and being told he was abroad, said, she wished 
he might not come home while she was there, for though 
he had always treated her with respect, yet she had 
sometimes been frightened with his frolics. 

At last, she said, she had great apprehensions of her 
fits, and in case that she should die of them, desired 
Mrs. Bargrave to write to her brother, and tell him 
she wished him to make certain arrangements for her, 
viz. give her best clothes to her uncle Watson's daughter, 
.as also two small pieces of gold laid up in a cabinet 



MRS. BARGRAVE AND MRS. VEAL. 261 

in a purse ; certain pieces to another person, two rings 
to Mr. Bretton, commissioner of the customs, a ring to 
Major-General Sibourg, (of which Mrs. Bargrave sent 
him a letter,) and further desired her to charge her bro- 
ther not to take any interest of such a certain person 
whose plate she had in security. 

As she often pressed this message, the other as often 
declined it ; saying it would be disagreeable to trouble 
such a young gentleman as her brother was, with their 
conversation, that he would wonder at her impertinence, 
and that she had better do it herself. To this she re- 
plied, that though it might seem impertinent now, she 
would see the reason of it hereafter ; that her brother 
though a sober man, and free from other vices, was 
yet vain, which she desired her to tell him ; as also of 
their discourse, and to give her credit, she told her some 
secret of consequence between him and herself. Seeing 
her so importunate, Mrs. Bargrave fetched pen and 
ink, upon which the other said, let it alone till I am 
gone, but be sure that you do it- 

This discourse gave Mrs. Bargrave apprehensions of 
her fits, so that she drew her chair close to her, to pre- 
vent her from falling, during which she several times 
took hold of the sleeve of her gown, which Mrs. B. ad- 
mired. Mrs. Veal said she had better take it for her- 
self ; the other answered, you are going a journey, 
how will you do without it ? She said, as well as 
you, who have often taken ofY your gown from your 
back for me. 

Towards the end of this discourse, she told Mrs. 
Bargrave, that she had received a pension of ten pounds 
a year, from Mr. Bretton, commissioner of the customs, 
who she said had been her great friend and benefactor. 

She asked Mrs. Bargrave, if she knew her sister, 



262 MRS. BARGRAVE AND MRS. VEAL. 

Mrs. ETaslewood, who, she said, was coming to see 
her as she was taking her journey ? The other asked 
again how she came to order matters so strangely ? 
She said the house was ready for them. It proved that 
Mrs. Haslewood and her husband came to her house 
just as she was dying. 

By this time she began to look disordered, and for- 
getful of what she had said, as if the fits were coming 
upon her. As this visit seemed in a great measure de- 
signed in gratitude to a friend, without giving any 
apprehensions, so the several parts of her discourse, 
that related to Mr. Bretton's pension, her sister Hasle- 
wood, the scouring of her gown, the quantity of gold in 
the purse, the rings and the plate in pawn, were designed 
as credentials to her brother and the world. 

At last she asked Mrs. Bargrave, where is Molly ? 
meaning her daughter ; she replied she is at school ; but 
if you wish to see her, I will send for her ; to which 
the other agreeing, she went to a neighbour's house to 
send for her, and at her return found Mrs. Veal without 
the door of the house, about to leave. 

Mrs. Veal asked if she would not go with her ? 
which the other took to be to Captain Watson's in Can- 
terbury, and said, you know it is as much as my life is 
worth ; but I will see you to-morrow in the afternoon, 
after sermon. But why are you in such haste ? Mrs. 
Veal then said, in case you should not come, or should 
not see me, you will remember what I have said to you. 
She saw her walk off till she came to the turning of a 
corner, and then lost sight of her. It was market-day, 
and immediately after the clock had struck two. 

Mrs. Bargrave at that instant told a neighbour of 
Mrs. Veal's visit, and of their conversation ; and a 
neighbour's servant, from a yard near her window, 



MRS. BARGRAVE AND MRS. VEAL. 263 

heard some of their discourse, and being asked by her 
mistress if Mr. Bargrave was talking with his wife ? 
auswered that they never talked of any thing so good. 

At night her husband came home in a frolicsome 
humour, and taking her by the hand, said, Molly, you 
are hot, you want to be cooled, and so opening the door 
to the garden, put her out there, where she continued 
all night. 

During Sunday she kept her bed; in a high fever, 
and on Monday morning sent to Mrs. Watson's to 
enquire after Mrs. Veal, and as she could have no satis- 
faction, went herself, but with as little. They were 
surprised at her enquiring for Mrs. Veal, and said, they 
were sure, by their not seeing her, that she could not 
have been at Canterbury ; but when Mrs. Bargrave 
persisted that she was, and described her dress, saying, 
she had on a scoured silk of such a colour, Mrs. Wat- 
son's daughter said, that she had indeed seen her, for 
none knew of the gown's being scoured but themselves, 
and that her mother assisted in making it up. In the 
meantime Captain Watson came in, and told them 
that preparation was making in town for the funeral of 
some person of note in Dover. This quickly raised 
apprehensions in Mrs. Bargrave, who went away 
directly to the undertaker's, and was no sooner informed 
it was for Mrs. Veal, than she fainted away in the 
street. 

For a long time Mrs. Bargrave was visited by crowds 
of people, who came to gratify their curiosity; the 
most sceptical on one hand, and the most superstitious 
on the other; and during her husband's life -time she 
was exposed to his unsparing raillery. 

His evasions were so frivolous to Dr» Stanhope, 
Dean of Canterbury, that when he endeavoured to 



2frl MR. BOOTY AND THE SHIP'S CREW. 

make the doctor disbelieve the story, and the divine 
pressed him how she should come to know so much of 
her secret affairs ? to divert the argument of her appear- 
ing after her death, he owned his sister could conceal 
nothing from her, intimating that she might have told her 
in her life-time. He was so piqued at the doctor, that 
when he came to Canterbury to be married by him, he 
was married by another; nor was he ever able to en- 
counter Mrs. Bargrave, but industriously avoided her. 

MR. BOOTY AND THE SHIP'S CREW. 

No circumstance connected with supernatural ap- 
pearances has occasioned more altercation and contro- 
versy, than the undermentioned. The narrative certainly 
has an air of overstrained credulity ; nevertheless, the 
affair is curious, and the coincidence very remarkable* 
especially as it was a salvo for Capt. Barnaby. The 
former part of this narrative is transcribed from Capt 
Spinks's journal, or log-book, and the latter from the 
King's Bench Records for the time being. 

Tuesday, May the 12th, this day the wind S. SW. 
and a little before four in the afternoon, we anchored 
in Manser road, where lay captains Bristo, Brian, and 
Barnaby, all of them bound to Lucera to load. Wed- 
nesday, May the 13th, we weighed anchor, and in the 
afternoon I went on board of Captain Barnaby, and 
about two o 1 clock we sailed all of us for the island of 
Lucera, wind W. SW. and bitter weather. Thurs- 
day, the 14th, about two o'clock, we saw the island, 
and all came to an anchor in twelve fathom water, the 
wind W. SW. and on the 15th day of May, we had 
an observation of Mr. Booty in the following manner : 
Captains Bristo, Brian, and Barnaby, went on shore 
shooting colues on Stromboli: when we had doae 



MR. BOOTY AND THE SHIP'S CREW. 265 

we called our men together, and about fourteen minutes 
after three in the afternoon, to our great surprise, we 
saw two men run by us with amazing swiftness ; Cap- 
tain Barnaby said, Lord bless me, the foremost man 
looks like my next-door neighbour, old Booty, but said, 
he did not know the other that was behind ; Booty was 
dressed in grey clothes, and the one behind in black ; 
we saw them run into the burning mountain in the 
midst of the flames, on which we heard a terrible noise 
too horrible to be described ; Captain Barnaby then 
desired us to look at our watches, pen the time down 
in our pocket-books, and enter it in our journals, which 
we accordingly did. 

When we were laden, we all sailed for England, and 
arrived at Gravesend, on the 6th of October, 1687. 
Mrs. Barnaby and Mrs. Brian came to congratulate 
our safe arrival, and after some discourse, Captain Bar- 
naby 's wife said, My dear, I have got some news to 
tell you, old Booty is dead. He swore an oath, and 
said, we all saw him run into ** hell." Some time 
afterwards, Mrs. Barnaby met with a lady of her 
acquaintance in London, and told her what her husband 
had seen concerning Mr. Booty ; it came to Mrs. 
Booty's ears, she arrested Captain Barnaby in 1000/. 
action ; he gave bail, and it came to trial at the Court 
of King's Bench, where Mr. Booty's clothes were 
brought into court. The sexton of the parish, and the 
people that were with him when he died, swore to the 
time when he died, and we swore to our journals, and 
they agreed within two minutes ; twelve of our men 
swore that the buttons of his coat were covered with 
the same grey cloth as his coat, and it appeared to be 
so ; the jury asked Mr. Spink if he knew Mr. Booty in 
bis life-time ; he said he never saw him till he saw him 

N 



266 REV. J. WILKINS. 

run by him into the burning mountain. The judge then 
said, Lord, grant that I may never see the sight that 
you have seen : one, two, or three, may be mistaken, 
but twenty or thirty cannot ; so the widow lost the 
cause. 

N. B. It is now in the Records at Westminster. 

James the Second, 1687 
Herbert, Chief Justice, 
Wythens, } 

Holloway, > Justices. 

And Wright, 3 

REMARKABLE DREAM, BY THE REV. JOSEPH WILKINS. 

The late Rev. Joseph Wilkins, dissenting minister at 
Weymouth, dreamt in the early part of his life, a very 
remarkable dream, which he carefully preserved in 
writing as follows : — " One night, soon after I was in 
bed, 1 fell asleep, and dreamt I was going to London. 
I thought it would not be much out of my way to go 
through Gloucestershire, and call upon my friends 
there. Accordingly I set out ; but remembered nothing 
that happened by the way till I came to my father's 
house; when I went to the front-door, and tried to 
open it, but found it fast ; then I went to the back- 
door, which 1 opened, and went in ; but finding all the 
family were in bed, I went across the rooms only, went 
up stairs, and entered the chamber where my father 
and mother were in bed. As I went by the side of the 
bed on which my father lay, I found him asleep, or 
thought he w T as so : then 1 went to the other side, and 
having just turned the foot of the bed, I found my mother 
awake ; to whom I said these words : ' Mother, I am 
going a long journey, and am come to bid you good 
bye ;' upon which she answered me in a fright, ' O 



REV. J. WILKINS. 267 

dear son, thou art dead!" With this I awoke, and 
took no notice of it, more than a common dream ; ex- 
cept that it appeared to me very perfect. 

In a few days after, as soon as a letter could reach 
me, J received one by post from my father, upon the 
receipt of which I was a little surprised, and concluded 
something extraordinary must have happened, as it was 
but a short time before 1 had a letter from my mends, and 
all were well. Upon opening it, I was more surprised 
still, for my father addressed me as though I w r as dead, 
desiring me, if alive, or whoever's hands the letter 
might fall into to write immediately ; but if the letter 
should find me living, they concluded I should not live 
long, and gave this as the reason of their fears, — That 
on a certain night, naming it, after they w r ere in bed, my 
father asleep, and my mother awake, she heard some- 
thing try to open the front-door, but finding it fast, he 
went to the back-door, which he opened, came in, and 
came directly through the rooms up stairs, and she per- 
fectly knew it to be my step ; that I came to her bed-side, 
and spoke to her these words : ' Mother, I am going a 
long journey, and am come to bid you good bye:' upon 
which she answered me in a fright, (< O ! dear son, thou 
art dead!" which were the very circumstances and 
words of my dream, but she heard nothing more, and 
saw nothing; neither did I in my dream. 

Upon this she awoke and told my father what 
had passed ; but he endeavoured to appease her, per- 
suading her it was only a dream : she insisted it was no 
dream, for that she was as perfectly awake as ever she 
was, and had not the least inclination to sleep since she 
had been in bed. From these circumstances I am apt 
to think, it was at the very same instant when my dream 
happened, though the distance between us was about 

n2 



268 DESFONTAINES. 

one hundred miles ; but of this I cannot speak positively. 
This occurred while I was at the academy at Ottery, De- 
von, in the year 1 754, and, at this moment, every circum- 
stance is fresh upon my mind. I have since had frequent 
opportunities of talking over the affair with my mother, 
and the whole was as fresh upon her mind as it was 
upon mine. I have often thought, that her sensations, 
as to this matter, were stronger than mine. What may 
appear strange, is that I cannot remember any thing re- 
markable happening hereupon. This is only a plain 
simple narrative of a matter of fact. 

Mr. Wilkins died November 15th, 1800, in the seven- 
tieth year of his age. 

APPARITION OF DESFONTAINES TO MR. BEZUEL. 

Mr. Bezuel, when a school-boy of fifteen, in 
1695, contracted an intimacy with a younger boy, 
named Desfontaines. x\fter talking together of the 
compacts which have been often made between friends, 
that in case of death the spirit of the deceased should 
revisit the survivor, they agreed to form such a compact 
together, and they signed it respectively, in 1696. 
Soon after this transaction, they were separated by 
Besfontames , removal to Caen. 

In July, 1697, Bezuel, while amusing himself in 
haymaking near a friend's house, was seized with a 
fainting fit, after which he had a restless night. Not- 
withstanding this attack, he returned to the meadow 
next day ; but on the succeeding day, he had a still 
more severe attack. Bezuel thus relates the subsequent 
circumstances himself in the Journal de Trevouse, in 
1726. 

" I fell into a swoon ; I lost my senses ; one of the 
footmen perceived it, and called out for help. They 
recovered me a little, but my mind was more disordered 






DESFONTAINES. 269 

than it had been before ; T was told that they asked 
me then what ailed me, and that I answered I have 
seen what 1 thought I should never see. But I neither 
remember the question nor the answer. However, it 
agrees with what I remember ; I saw then a naked 
man in half length, but I knew him not. They helped 
me to go down the ladder : I held the steps fast ; but 
because I saw Desfontaines, my schoolfellow, at the 
bottom of the ladder, I had again a fainting fit; my 
head got between two steps, and I again lost my senses, 
They let me down, and set me upon a large beam ? 
which served for a seat in the great Place de CapuciiiK 
I sat upon it, and then I no longer saw Mr. de Sorto- 
ville, nor his servants, though they were present. And 
perceiving Desfontaines near the foot of the ladder, 
who made me a sign to come to him, 1 went back upon 
my seat as it were to make room for him ; and those 
who saw me, and whom I did not see though my eye^ 
were open, observed that motion. Because he did not 
come I got up to go to him : he came up to me, took 
hold of my left arm with his right hand, and carried 
me thirty paces farther into a by-lane, holding me fast. 
The servants believing that I was recovered, went to 
their business, except a little footboy, who told Mr. de 
Sortoville that I was talking to myself. Mr. de Sorto- 
ville thought I was drunk. . He came near me and 
heard me ask some questions and return some answers, 
as he afterwards told. 

I talked with Desfontaines nearly three quarters of 
an hour. I promised you, said he, that if I died before 
you I would come and tell you so. I am now come to 
tell you I was drowned in the river of Caen yesterday 
about this hour ; I was walking with some friends : it was 
very hot weather, and we agreed to go into the water ; I 



270 SIR JOHN AND LADY OWEN. 

grew faint and sunk to the bottom of the river; the 
Abbe Menilgian, my schoolfellow, dived to take me 
up ; I took hold of his foot, but whether he was afraid, 
or had a mind to rise to the top of the water, he struck 
out his leg so violently that he gave me a blow on the 
breast, and threw me again to the bottom of the river, 
which is very deep. 

He always appeared to me taller than I had seen 
him, and even taller than he was when he died. I al- 
ways saw him in half length, and naked, bareheaded, 
with his fine light hair, and a white paper upon his 
forehead, twisted in his hair, upon which there was a 
writing, but I could only read " In ccelo quits" 

SIR JOHN AND LADY OWEN. 

Sir John Owen was a person of note, and of well- 
known credit; his lady and one of her sons lived in 
London; and being of a gay and expensive disposition, 
it was thought she lived beyond what the Knight could 
afford, and that he was sensible of it and uneasy about 
it. She had a good house in London, and a country 
house, or lodgings for the summer, at Hampstead, and 
kept a splendid equipage. 

It happened one day, lady Owen being at her country 
lodgings, that a person well-dressed, in appearance 
a gentleman, called at her city house, and knocked 
at the door, asked the maid if there were any lodgings 
to be let there, and if her lady was at home? On the 
servant's evincing some anger at so rude a question — 
" Well," said he, ' ' don't be displeased, your lady has had 
some thoughts of staying at her summer lodgings all 
the winter, and so would dispose of some apartments 
in town for the parliament season ; and T am directed 
by herself to look at the rooms, and give my answer ; 



SIR JOHN AND LADY OWEN. 271 

let me but just see them, I shall do you no harm : he 
then entered, and as it were pushed by her, and going 
into the first parlour, sat down in an easy chair, his 
servant waiting at the door ; and as the maid did not 
apprehend any mischief, she followed him. 

When she came in, he rose up, and looking about 
the room, found fault with the furniture, and the dispo- 
sition of it ; all was too good, too rich, and far above 
the quality of the owner ; and said, that the lady did 
not know what she did, that it was an expence she 
could not support ; and that such a mode of living 
would bring her and all the family to ruin and 
beggary. 

The servant now conducted him into another parlour, 
where he found the same fault : he told her he was 
surprised that her lady lived at so extravagant a rate as 
Sir John's estate could not maintain it, that it would run 
him into debt and ruin him; and thus he would be 
undone by her extravagance. 

Upon this the maid retorted, and told him that this 
was foreign to what he came about; if the lodgings 
were too good for him, that was his business indeed, 
else he had nothing to do with her lady's conduct, and 
the furniture of her house ; that her master was a gen- 
tleman of great estate, and had large plantations in 
Jamaica; that he contantly supplied her lady with 
money sufficient for her support, and for all her ex- 
pences; and she wondered that he should interfere. 

The stranger now calmly entered into conversation 
about Lady Owen, and her way of living, and told 
many of the secrets ef the family, so that the servant 
began to be more courteous. 

She tried several times to learn who he was, his rank, 



272 SIR JOHN AND LADY OWEN. 

country, name and address; but he always declined, 
only telling her he would go to Hampstead, where 
Lady Owen lodged, and wait upon her himself; and 
thanking the servant for her civility, he left the house, 
his servant followed him. 

The girl now became much alarmed at these curious 
coincidences and circumstances. At length she went to 
give her lady an account of what had happened. On 
reaching Hampstead, she found her mistress very ill. 
At first she was refused admittance, but she urged her 
extraordinary business. " What extraordinary business 
can you have?" said the lady's maid tauntingly, " if your 
business was from the devil, you can't speak with my 
lady just now, for she is very ill and in bed." 

From the devil, said Mary, I don't know but it may, 
and I believe it is indeed ; so I must speak with my 
lady immediately. 

Nay, replied the woman, here has been one mes- 
senger too many from the devil already, I think ; sure 
you don't come of his errand too, do ye ? 

I don't know whose errand I come of, but I am 
frightened out of my wits ; let me speak with my lady 
presently, or I shall die before I deliver my message. 

Die ! said the woman ; I wish my lady may not die 
before she hears it; pry'thee Mary, if it be any thing to 
frighten her, don't tell it her just now, for she is almost 
frightened to death already. 

Why, said Mary, has my lady seen any thing? Ay, 
ay: seen ! said the woman, she has seen and heard too; 
there has been a man who has brought her dreadful 
tidings. 

They talked so loud, that the lady heard the noise, 
and immediately rang the bell for her maid. #hen the 



SIR JOHN AND LADY OWEN, 273 

woman went in, Who is that below, said the lady, 
talking so earnestly ? is any body come from London ? 
Yes, madam, said the woman, here is Mary come to 
speak to your ladyship. Mary come, said she, in a 
surprise, what can be the matter! why, sure, has she 
seen something too? mercy on me, what's the matter! 
what does she say ? 

At length Mary entered the room, and the woman 
was ordered to withdraw. 

As soon as the door was shut, the lady burst into 
tears. O Mary, said she, 1 have had a dreadful visi 
this afternoon ; your master has been here. My master 
why, madam, that's impossible. Nay, it was your 
master, I am sure. 

In a word, the apparition of her husband had told 
her his estate would not support her expensive way of 
living, and that she would bring herself to misery and 
poverty, and much more to the same purpose as he had 
said to Mary. 

Mary immediately asked her ladyship, in what manner 
he appeared; and by the description that her mistress 
gave, it was exactly the same figure that had appeared 
to her, and desired to see the lodgings ; then Mary gave 
her ladyship a particular relation of what had happened 
to her also, and of the message she was charged to 
deliver. 

The lady was ultimately reduced, and obliged to sell 
her splendid furniture and equipage. But the most re- 
markable incident is, that just at this juncture, Sir John 
Owen, the lady's husband, died in the West- Indies. 

This relation is taken from a manuscript, in the pos- 
session of Sir Owen Ap Owen, of Brecknockshire: and 
the circumstance happened in the beginning of the reign 
of Queen Anne. 

n3 



274 OMEN TO CHARLES II. &C. 

OMEN TO CHARLES II. 

According to a tract published in 1680, Elizabeth 
Freeman, of Bishop's Hatfield, Herts, was visited by 
an apparition several times, which commanded her to 
deliver a message to Charles the Second. She swore 
before Sir Joseph Jorden, and Dr. Lee, that on Mon- 
day, January 24, she saw the apparition of a woman 
who said to her, <; The fifteenth of May is appointed 
for the Royal blood to be poisoned/' Again the appa- 
rition desired her to tell king Charles not to remove his 
Parliament, and stand to his Council. 

JUDGE BRO GRAVE. 

As Mr. Brograve, of Hamel, near Puckeridge, Herts, 
when a young man, was riding in a lane, he suddenly 
received a violent blow on the cheek. He looked back, 
and saw that nobody was near him; and soon after- 
wards he received another blow. He turned back, and 
fell to the study of the law; and hence became a judge. 
This acccount I had from Sir John Penruddock, of 
Compton, chamberlain, (our neighbour) whose ]ady was 
Judge Brograve's niece. — Aubrey's Miscellanies. 

COMMISSIONER FOSTREE. 

Mr. Fostree one of the Commissioners of the Vic- 
tualling Office, died in 1767. What is remarkable, a 
Commissioner of the same Board having dreamed that 
one of their number had fallen down dead, and telling 
his dream the next morning, the words were scarcely 
uttered, when Mr. Fostree suddenly expired. — Annual 
Register, 1767. 

LORD LYTTLETON. 

The subject of this narrative was the son of George 
Lord Lyttleton, and was alike distinguished for the raci- 



LORD LYTTLETOtt, 275 

ness of his wit and the profligacy of his manners. The 
latter trait of his character has induced many persons 
to suppose the apparition which he asserted he had seen, 
to have been the effect of a conscience quickened with 
remorse for innumerable vices and misgivings. The 
probability of the narrative has, consequently, been much 
questioned ; but in our own acquaintance we chance to 
know two gentlemen, one of whom was at Pitt Place, 
the seat of Lord Lyttleton, and the other in the imme- 
diate neighbourhood at the time of his Lordship's death; 
and who bear ample testimony to the veracity of the 
whole affair. 

The several narratives correspond in material points ; 
and we shall now proceed to relate the most circum- 
stantial particulars written by a gentleman who was on 
a visit to his lordship : — 

" I was at Pitt Place, Epsom, when Lord Lyttleton 
died ; Lord Fortescue, Lady Flood, and the two Miss 
Amphletts, were also present. Lord Lyttleton had not 
long been returned from Ireland, and frequently had 
been seized with suffocating fits : he was attacked several 
times by them in the course of the preceding month, 
while he was at his house in Hill Street, Berkeley 
Square. It happened that he dreamt, three days before 
his death, that he saw a fluttering bird ; and afterwards 
that a woman appeared to him in white apparel, and 
said to him, ' Prepare to die, you will not exist three 
days/* His lordship was much alarmed, and called to 

♦According to the narrative of a relative of Lady Lyttleton, the 
following is the version of the circumstances as related by Lord 
Lyttleton: — 

Two nights before, on his retiring to his bed, after his servant was 
dismissed and his light extinguished, he had heard a noise resemb- 
ling the fluttering of a dove at bis chamber window. This attracted 



276 LORD LYTTLETON. 

a servant from a closet adjoining, who found him much 
agitated, and in a profuse perspiration : the circumstance 
had a considerable effect all the next day on his lord- 
ship's spirits. On the third day, while his lordship was 
at breakfast with the above personages, he said, * If I 
live over to-night, I shall have jockied the ghost, for this 
is the third day/ The whole party presently set off for 
Pitt Place, where they had not long arrived, before his 
lordship was visited by one of his accustomed fits : after 
a short interval, he recovered. He dined at five o'clock 
that day, and went to bed at eleven, when his servant 
was about to give him rhubarb and mint- water; but his 
lordship, perceiving him stir it with a tooth-pick, called 
him a slovenly dog, and bid him go and fetch a tea- 
spoon ; but, on the man's return, he found his master in 
a fit, and the pillow being placed high, his chin bore 
hard upon his neck, w T hen the servant, instead of reliev- 
ing his lordship, on the instant, from his perilous situa- 

his attention to the spot ; when, looking in the direction of the sound, 
he saw the figure of an unhappy female, whom he had seduced and 
deserted, and who, when deserted, had put a violent end to her own 
existence, standing in the aperture of the window from which the 
fluttering sound had proceeded. The form approached the foot of the 
bed : — the room waspreternaturally light ; the objects of the chamber 
were distinctly visible : raising her hand, and pointing to a dial which 
stood on the mantel-piece of the chimney, the figure, with a severe 
solemnity of voice and manner, announced to the appalled and con- 
science-stricken man, that, at that very hour, on the third day after 
the visitation, his life and his sins would be concluded, and nothing 
but their punishment remain, if he availed himself not of the warning 
to repentance which he had received. The eye of Lord Lyttleton 
glanced upon the dial; the hand was on the stroke of twelve : — again 
the apartment was involved in total darkness : — the warning spirit 
disappeared, and bore away at her departure all the lightness of 
heart and buoyancy of spirit, ready flow of wit, and vivacity of man- 
ner, which had formerly been the pride and ornament of the unhappy 
being to whom she had delivered her tremendous summons. 



LORD LYTTLETOX. 277 

tion, ran, in Lis fright, and called out for help, but on his 
return he found his lordship dead." 

In explanation of this strange tale, it is said, that Lord 
Lyttleton acknowledged, previously to his death, that 
the woman he had seen in his dream was the c mother' 
of the two Miss Amphletts, mentioned above; whom, 
together with a third sister, then in Ireland, his lordship 
had seduced, and prevailed on to leave their parent, who 
resided near his country residence in Shropshire. It is 
further stated, that Mrs. Amphlett died of grief, through 
the desertion of her children, at the precise time when 
the female vision appeared to his lordship ; and that, about 
the period of his own dissolution, a personage answering 
bis description visited the bed-side of the late Miles Peter 
Andrews, Esq., (who had been the friend and companion 
of Lord Lyttleton in his revels,) and suddenly throwing 
open the curtains, desired Mr. Andrews to come to him. 
The latter, not knowing that his lordship had returned 
from Ireland, suddenly got up, when the phantom dis- 
appeared ! Mr. Andrews frequently declared, that the 
alarm caused him to have a short fit of illness ; and, in 
his subsequent visits to Pitt Place, no solicitations could 
ever prevail on him to take a bed there ; but he would 
invariably return, however late, to the Spread Eagle Inn, 
at Epsom, for the night. 

Sir Nathaniel Wraxall, in his Memoirs has the fol- 
lowing passage: — 

" Dining at Pitt Place, about four years after the 
death of Lord Lyttleton, in the year 1783, I had the 
curiosity to visit the bedchamber, where the casement 
window, at which Lord Lyttleton asserted the dove ap- 
peared to flutter, was pointed out to me ; and, at his 
stepmother's, the dowager Lady Lyttleton's, in Portugal 
Street, Grosvenor Square. I have frequently seen a 



278 MR. barlow's huntsman. 

parting which she herself executed, in 1 780, expressly 
to commemorate the event: it hung in a conspicuous 
part of her drawing room. There the dove appears at 
the window, while a female figure, habited in white, 
stands at the foot of the bed, announcing to Lord Lyt- 
tleton his dissolution. Every part of the picture was 
faithfully designed, after the description given to her by 
the valet de chambre who attended him. to whom his 
master related all the circumstances/' 

An engraving, copied from this picture, has been 
published, and is still frequently to be met with in the 
collections of printsellers. 

APPARITION OF MR. BARLOW'S HUNTSMAN. 

Last Christmas day in the morning, Mr. Barlow was 
visited by a person who had the appearance and dress 
of his huntsman, who opened his curtains and asked 
him whether he proposed going out with the hounds 
that morning. Mr. Barlow told him that he was not 
then very well, and did not care to go himself, but that 
he, the huntsman, might take the dogs and go to such a 
mountain, where he might find a fox ; upon which the 
person left him. Mrs. Barlow hearing this conversation, 
as she thought between the huntsman and her hus- 
band, for she lay in a room contiguous to his, came 
sometime after to him, and expostulated with him upon 
the indecency of sending out the hounds that day ; 
what answer he made her is not certain, but when he 
came down stairs, he saw some of his favourite hounds 
about the house, which led him to an enquiry why the 
huntsman had left those hounds behind him. The ser- 
vants protested the huntsman had not been there that 
morning, and that the dogs were all in the kennel, upon 
which a servant was sent to Narbeth, where the hunts- 



THE SPECTRE WITNESS. 279 

man lived, to see whether he had been at Slebetch or 
not. The huntsman strenuously denied it, and said he 
was just got out of bed, and his wife affirmed the same. 
On being informed of what had happened to his master, 
both man and wife fell ill with the conceit ; the man is 
since pretty well recovered, but the woman still con- 
tinues in a state of distraction. Barlow T himself has 
been greatly shocked about it ; he insists on the reality 
of the appearance ; and Mrs. Barlow affirms, she 
heard the huntsman that morning talking with her hus- 
band. 

Gentleman's Magazine, July, 1812. 

EVIDENCE OF AN APPARITION. 

Extracted from ike Records of the Court of Justiciary in 
Edinburgh. 

Upon the 10th of June, 1754, Duncan Terig, alias 
Clarke, and Alexander Bain Macdonald, were tried at 
Edinburgh, before the Court of Justiciary, for the 
murder of Arthur Davis, serjeant in General Guise's 
regiment of foot, on the 2Sth of September, 1749. 

In the course of the proof for the crown, Alexander 
rVTPherson deposed, that an apparition came one night, 
when he was in bed, to his bed side, and he supposing 
his visitor to be one Farquharson, his acquaintance, got 
up and followed it to the door, when it told him it was 
Serjeant Davies, and desired him to go to a place it 
pointed out to him in the Hill of Christie, where he 
would find its bones; and further requested, that he 
should go to Farquharson, who would accompany him 
to the hill, and assist him in burying them ; that he 
went to the place pointed out, and there found a human 
body, of which the flesh was mostly consumed, but at 



280 MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 

that time h£ did not bury it. A few nights afterwards 
the ghost paid him a second visit, and reminded him of 
his promise to bury the bones, and upon his enquiring 
who was the murderer, the ghost told him they were D. 
Clarke and Alexander M'Donald. After this second 
apparition, the witness and Farquharson went and 
buried the bones. 

Anothef witness, Isabella M'Hardie, deposed, that 
she was in the same house with M'Pherson, and that 
she saw a naked man come into the house, and go to- 
wards M*Pherson's bed. 

Donald Farquharson confirmed the testimony of 
M'Pherson, as to the finding of the body, and his as- 
sisting in burying it. He likewise deposed, that 
M'Pherson told him of the ghost's visit, and also of its 
request to get him (Farquharson) to assist him in bury- 
ing the body. 

The prisoners were acquitted principally on account 
of the evidence of these witnesses, whose information 
from the ghost threw an air of discredit on the whole 
proof. The agent for the prisoners told the relator of 
this extraordinary story (that as they were then both 
dead) he had no difficulty to declare, that in his own 
opinion they were both guilty. 

THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 

This atrocious affair, perhaps one of the most 
bloody tragedies with which the page of history is 
stained, is on good authority, said to have been prog- 
nosticated in several ways, and even a considerable 
time before its perpetration. 

Sinclair, in his Invisible World, says, " the histories 
of the time is full of secret warnings and notices, given 
by the apparitions of invisible agents in dream. Ad- 



MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 281 

miral Coligni had no less than three particular notices 
given him by dreams, that his life was in danger, and 
that he would be murdered if he stayed in Paris ; an 

express was sent him from the Count S , at Saumur, 

to make his escape and flee for his life before it w r as too 
late : nay, it was even said that the King of Navarre, 
afterwards Henry IV. sent a private message to him to 
be gone, and if he staid one night longer he would find 
it impossible ; but it was all in vain, he was deaf and 
indolent to his own safety." 

u Others who were more obedient to the heavenly 
vision, more touched than with the sense of their dan- 
ger, as the Count de Montgomery, the Vidarne of Cbar- 
tres, De Caversac ; and who had severally, and some 
of them jointly, timely warning of their danger, mounted 
their horses and fled the night before, and foiling the 
vigilance of their pursuers made their escape." 

Henry IV. said many times in public, that after the 
massacre of St. Bartholomew, a swarm of ravens flew 
upon the top of the Louvre, and that during seven nights, 
the king himself, and all the courtiers, heard groans 
and dreadful cries, at the same hour. He related a yet 
more extraordinary circumstance ; he said, that a few 
days previous to the massacre, while playing at dice 
with the Duke of Alencon, and the Duke of Guise, he 
saw drops of blood upon the table ; that twice he or- 
dered them to be wiped off, and twice they appeared 
again, and then, he left the game struck with horror. 

Mezeray in his History of France, relates the follow- 
ing fact ; a few years before the massacre of St. Bar- 
tholomew, the guardian of the Convent of the Corde- 
liers of Saints, whose name was Michael Crellet, hav- 
ing been condemned to be hanged by Admiral Coligny, 



282 DEATH OF HENRY THE THIRD. 

foretold him that he would die assassinated, that his 
body would be thrown out of the windows, and that 
afterwards he would be hanged himself, which hap- 
pened to the Admiral at the massacre of St. Bartho- 
lomew. — Voltaire — Notes to Henriade. 



[PROGNOSTICATED DEATH OF HENRY III. OF FRANGJB. 

When Henry the third, king of France, was as- 
sassinated at the siege of Paris, by a monk of the order 
of St. Francis, whose name was Jacques Clement, it 
was publicly said, and believed by many, that this fa- 
natical monster had received an order from heaven, to 
destroy a king, who was then fighting against the re- 
bellious clergy. We read the following; narrative in a 
book published by a jacobin friar, and printed at Troyes, 
in the province of Champaign, s8me time after the death 
of Henry the third ; we translate it from the old French 
language : — 

" So that God, hearing favourably the prayer of this 
faithful servant, whose name was brother Jacques Cle- 
ment, one night while he was in bed, sent to him his 
angel in a vision, who appearing with a great light to 
the monk, and showing him a naked sword, addressed 
him with these words : — 

* Brother Jacques, I am the messenger of God Al- 
mighty, who cometh to inform thee, that by thee, 
the tyrant of France must be put to d ;ath. Think 
thou, therefore, for thyself, and prepare thyself, as the 
crown of martyrdom is prepared for thee/ Having 
spoken thus, the vision disappeared, and let him think 
On those words of truth." 



283 



ALEXANDER PEDEN. 

This extraordinary man was once imprisoned in the 
Bass, a stupendous crag in the Highlands of Scotland, 
used as a place of confinement for state and other pri- 
soners. 

" One sabbath morning," says the narrator, " being 
in the public worship of God, a young girl about the 
age of fourteen years, came to Peden's chamber-door, 
mocking with loud laughter; he said, 'poor thing, thou 
laughest and mockest at the worship of God, but ere 
long, God shall write such a surprising judgment on 
thee, that shall stay this laughing/ &c. Very 
shortly after that, as she was walking on the rock, a 
blast of wind swept her off to the sea, where she was 
lost/' 

REMARKABLE DREAM OF THE CELEBRATED MISS HUTTON. 

This lady was the daughter of the late Dr. Charles 
Hutton, one of the first mathematicians of his time. A 
few days before her death, which took place in October, 
1794, she had a remarkable dream, which her friends 
thought so curious, that they desired her to write it 
down, which she immediately did, literally in the fol- 
lowing words. 

" I dreamed that I was dead, and that my soul had 
ascended into one of the stars ; there I found several 
persons whom 1 had formerly known, and among them 
some of the nuns whom I was particularly attached to 
when in France.* They told me, when they received 
me, they were glad to see me, but hoped I should not 
stay with them long, the place being a kind of purga- 
tory ; and that all the stars were for the reception of 
different people's souls, a different star being allotted for 

* She had been for two years educated as a nun there. 



284 CONVERSION OF HENRY DE JOYEUSE. 

every kind of bad temper and vice ; all the sharp tem- 
pers went to one star, the sulky to another, the peevish 
to another ; and so on. Every body in each star, being 
of the same temper, no one would give up to another, 
and there was nothing but dissension and quarrels 
among them. Some of those who received me, taking 
offence at the information my friends were giving to me 
a child, it made a quarrel, which at length became so 
rude and noisy, that it awoke me." 

Gentleman 's Magazine. 

CONVERSION OF HENRY DE JOYEUSE. 

Vicieux, penitent, Courtier, Solitaire, 

It prit, quitta, reprit la cuirasse et la haire. — Voltaire. 

These lines admirably describe the character and 
fortune of Henry de Joyeuse, Count of Bouchage, 
and second brother of the Duie of Joyeuse, who was 
killed at the battle of Contras. Voltaire relates the fol- 
lowing fact concerning this individual : 

" One day, at four o'clock in the morning, passing 
by the convent of the Capuchin Friars at Paris, after a 
night spent in debauchery, he fancied that he heard 
angels singing matins in the convent. Struck with this 
thought, he became a capuchin friar, and took the name 
of brother angel. Afterwards he left the frock, and 
fought against Henry IV. The Duke of Mayenne ap- 
pointed him Governor of Languedoc, and created him a 
duke and peer, and a marshal of France. At length he 
made his peace with the king, but one day, being with 
his Majesty on a balcony, under which a great crowd 
were assembled; ' Cousin/ said Henry IV. c those 
people appear to me very pleased to see together an 
apostate, and renegade/ These words of the king in- 
duced Joyeuse to return to his convent, where he died." 



285 



APPARITION TO NINON DE L ENCXOS.* 

In the year 1633, as the famous Mademoiselle Ninon 
de L'Enclos, one day sat alone in her chamber, her 
servant announced the arrival of a stranger, who desired 
to speak with her, but refused to tell his name. The 
young lady made answer that she was engaged with 
company. "No, no," said the stranger to the lacquey; 
" I know well that Miss is by herself, and for that very 
reason call upon her at present. Go, tell her, I have 
-secrets of the last moment to impart, and cannot take a 
refusal." This extraordinary message, by exciting female 
curiosity, procured the stranger admittance. He was of 
low stature, of an ungracious aspect, and his grey hairs 
bespoke age. He was dressed in black, without a 
sword, wore a calotte (a small leather cap which covered 
the tonsure) and had a» large patch on his forehead ; in 
his left hand he held a very slender cane ; his features 
were expressive, and his eyes sparkled vivacity. " Ma- 
dam," said he, on entering the apartment, ci please to 
make your waiting maid retire ; my words are not 
for third persons to hear." — Miss L'Enclos was much 
alarmed at this preamble ; but reflecting she had to do 

* Ninon de L'Enclos was born at Paris, of a noble family, in 1615. 
H^r mother was anxious to place her in a convent, but was prevented 
by her father, who was a man of gaiety. She lost her parents at 
the age of fifteen, and possessing the most fascinating personal beauty, 
she was followed by some of the first men of her time, but would 
never unite herself in marriage. She died at the age of ninety, 
and what is most singular, preserved her charms to the last. A re- 
markable circumstance is related of one of her sons, who having 
been bred without knowing his mother, conceived a desire for her, 
but having discovered the secret of his birth, he stabbed himself in her 
presence, thus presenting a most extraordinary instance of unna- 
tural and perverted passion! 



286 APPARITION TO NINON l/£NCLOS. 

with a decrepit old man, mustered up some resolution^ 
and dismissed her maid. — " Let not my visit alarm you, 
Madam; said the stranger. It is true I do not honour 
all indiscriminately with my presence, but be assured 
you have nothing to fear. All I beg is, that you would 
hear me with confidence and attention. You see before 
you a man whom the earth obeys, and whom nature 
has invested with the power of dispensing her gifts. I 
presided at your birth ; the lot of mortals depends upon 
my rod ; and 1 have condescended to ask what lot you 
would wish for yourself; the present is but the 
dawn of your brilliant days. Soon you shall arrive at 
that period, when the gates of the world shall fly open 
to receive you ; for it depends wholly upon yourself to 
be the most illustrious, and the most prosperous lady of 
your age. I submit to your choice supreme honours, 
immense riches, and eternal beauty. Take which you 
chuse, and depend upon it, there exists not a mortal 
who can make you the same ample offer." — " That I 
verily believe," replied the fair one in a fit of laughter ; 
" besides your gifts are so very splendid/' " I hope, Ma- 
dam, you have too much good sense to make sport of a 
stranger. Once more, I seriously make you the same 
offer, but decide instantly." " Then truly, Sir, since 
you are so good as to give me my choice, I hesitate not 
to fix upon eternal beauty ; but how, pray, am I to 
obtain such an inestimable prize ?" " Madam, all I ask 
is, that you could put down your name in my tablets, 
and swear inviolable secrecy." Mademoiselle de TEn- 
elos, instantly replied, and wrote her name upon a black 
memorandum-book with red edges. The old man 
at the same time struck her gently upon the left shoulder 
with his wand. " This now/ resumed he, " is the 
whole ceremony ; henceforth, rely upon eternal beauty, 



apparition to nixon l'enclos. 287 

• 

and the subjugation of every heart. I bestow oa you 
unlimited powers of charming, — the most precious privi- 
lege a tenant of this nether orb can enjoy. During the 
six thousand years that I have perambulated this globe, 
I have only found four who were worthy of such rare 
felicity. They were Semiramis, Helen, Cleopatra, and 
Diana of Poitenx ; you are the fifth, and I am determined 
shall be the last. You shall be ever fresh and ever 
blooming : charms and adorations shall track your steps : 
whoever beholds you, shall that instant be captivated, 
and they whom you love shall reciprocally love you; 
you shall enjoy uninterrupted health and longevity with- 
out appearing old. Some females seem born to bewitch 
the eye, and some the heart ; but you alone, are fated 
to unite these different qualities : you shall taste of plea- 
sure at an age when others of your sex are beset with 
decrepitude ; your name shall live, while the world en- 
dures — I am aware, Madam, that all this will appear to 
you like enchantment, but ask me no questions,- for I 
dare not answer a word. In the course of your life 
you shall see me once again, and that ere fourscore 
years be run. Tremble then! for three short days shall 
close your existence ! Remember, my name is Night 
Walker/' J With these words he vanished, and left the 
Miss of eternal beauty shivering with fear. 

This lady of amorous memory, adds the narrator 
had a second visit from the gentleman in black, in the 
year 1706, as she lingered on her death-bed. In spite 
of the efforts of servants, he had found his way into 
her apartment; he stood by her bed, opened the cur- 
tabs and gazed. The patient turned pale, and shrieked 
aloud. The unwelcome guest, after reminding her that 
the third day would be that of ber dissolution, exhibited 
her own signature, and disappeared, as he exclaimed 



288 MISS HEPBURN E. 

with a hideous voice, " Tremble, for it is past, and you 
are to fall." The third day came, and L'Enclos was 
no more. 

APPARITION TO MISS HEPBURNE OP GARLETON, 

In the Scottish Highlands, 

Rather more than fifty years ago, an old maiden 
lady, Miss Janet Hepburn, sister to Colonel Hepburn, 
of Luffness and Congalton, of good family, was the 
tenant of one of the now decayed wings of the mansion 
house of Garleton. She is described as a tall thin 
figure, who wore a black silk cloak and bonnet, and 
walked with a large cane, ornamented with a gold 
chain and tassel, she had also a great deal of eccentri- 
city in her conduct; for she often walked at dead of 
night and early dawn, till she was so wetted by the 
dews and the long dank grass, that on her return home, 
she had to shift her clothes or go to bed. Add to this, 
that she had the misfortune to be a papist, and was 
very ostensible in her devotions ; so that we need not 
wonder that she was regarded by the superstitious of 
the neighbourhood, with no small degree of terror and 
aversion. 

Having sauntered out one morning till near sunrise, 
she sat down on the craggy hill, when " an odd looking 
man," as she termed him, approached her. She waved 
her cane to keep off the intruder, who, after muttering 
something, went away. The lady immediately returned 
home ; but during the day, could not banish the unwel- 
come visitor from her thoughts. At night, after locking 
the outer door, and placing the key below her pillow, 
she went to bed as usual, at a late hour. In vain she 
endeavoured to compose herself to sleep, and to dissipate 
the troublesome thoughts that arose in her mind; at 
length she heard the outer door open, and a heavy foot 



MISS HEPBURNE. 289 

come tramping up the creaking stairs ; something opened 
the door, and entered the room adjoining to her bed- 
closet; the door of the latter next opened, and she again 
beheld the'un welcome visitor — the spectre of the morning. 
She was only able to articulate, " Who comes there ?*' 
when the stranger replied, " this is my native place, and 
I have a long history to tell you !'V The lady thinking 
the intruder was a robber, pointed to a small box con- 
taining her keys, and bade him take what he wanted, 
and be gone. The mysterious personage still wished to 
speak; but as she waved her hand, and inclined not to 
listen, he disappeared. As he retired, she again heard 
the heavy foot tramping down the creaking stairs, till 
the slashing of the outer door announced his exit. 

Although the lady passed a sleepless night, she was 
unwilling to disturb the inmates of her house, which 
consisted only of a maiden lady and a domestic. Next 
morning, when the servant came for the key of the 
outer door, she told her what had happened, and that 
she imagined robbers had been in the house. The maid 
had also the imperfect recollection of some voice ; but 
it was like the voice of a dream. At her lady's desire, 
she immediately went to the press where the family 
plate was deposited, but found it unmolested ; the silver 
w 7 ine cup stood on the mantle piece, below T the crucifix, 
untouched, and the outer door remained fast ; in short, 
everything stood.in its place,as on the preceding evening. 

It was the impression of the less superstitious part of 
the neighbourhood, that the old lady was superannu- 
ated, and that the ghastly visitant was the creature of a 
dream. Be this as it may, on that day twelvemonth, 
the lady of Garleton was seized with a convulsive fit 
in the evening, and expired about the same hour at mid- 
night that she had had an interview with the unwelcome 

o 



290 MR WESTON. 

visitor. I have only to add, that the person from whom 
I had the preceding story is of unquestionable veracity, 
and that she had often heard it from the lady's own 
lips. 

The ruins of the mansion house still remain at the 
foot of Garleton hills, and are a fine miniature specimen 
of Highland scenery. 

APPARITION TO MR. WESTON, OP OLD SWINFORD, 
WORCESTERSHIRE. 

In the summer of 1759, Mr. Weston was walking 
one evening in the beautiful park of Lord Lyttleton, at 
Hagley, (characterized in Thomson's Seasons, the Bri- 
tish Tempe,) when being overtaken by a shower of rain, 
ran into a grotto, and stood beneath a spreading oak ; 
under the shade of which several cattle were grazing. 

He had not been above ten minutes in that situation, 
before he saw the form of a man pass over the brook 
close to the shade. Supposing it to be a poor peasant 
who had long worked for him, he called him by name, 
but received no answer ; and the apparition quickly dis- 
appearing, his mind was much agitated. Regardless of 
the storm, Mr. Weston withdrew from his asylum, and 
walked round a rising hill, to endeavour to discover the 
form which had presented itself to him. That, however, 
had not the effect desired ; but one abundantly more 
salutary it certainly had, for just as he had gained the 
summit of a hill, on his return to the grotto, a tremen- 
dous flash of lightning darted its forked fury on the 
venerable oak, shivered it to pieces, and killed two of 
the cattle under its boughs. 

On Mr. Weston's return to Swinford, he found that 
the death of the labourer was just announced in the 
neighbourhood. He instantly related the circumstance 



SECOND SIGHT. 2S1 

to bis friend. He had the body decently interred at 
bis own expense ; and afterwards contributed to the 
support of the widow, not only by remitting a year's 
rent for her cottage and piece of ground, but also by 
settling a small annuity upon her till she should marry. 

SECOND-SIGHT. 

Superstition" has been universally attributed to the 
Scottish character, and it forms a prominent feature in 
its history. The author of Waverley has availed himself 
of their most popular Northern legends, and on them he 
may be said to have laid the basis of his literary fame; 
indeed, they may be considered as adding a peculiar 
charm to Scottish literature. 

Among these traditions none are better authenticated 
than those of Second Sight, which subject has been 
specially treated by various authors, at considerable 
length. 

Martin gives the following account of it:* 

u The second-sight is a singular faculty of seeing an other- 
wise invisible object, without any previous means used by the 
person that uses it for that end ; the vision makes such a lively 
impression upon the seers, that they neither see, nor think of 
any thing else, except the vision, as long as it continues ; and 
then they appear pensive or jovial, according to the object 
which was represented to them. 

" The seer knows neither the object, time, nor place, of a 
vision, before it appears ; and the same object is often seen 
by different persons, living at a considerable distance from one 
another. The true way of judging as to the time and circum- 
stance of an object, is by observation; for several persons of 
judgment, without this faculty, are more capable to judge of 
the design of a vision, than a novice that is a seer. If an 
object appear in the day or night, it will come to pass sooner 
or later accordingly. 

* Description of the Western I lands of Scotlam*, ftto, 1103. 
c 2 



292 SECOND SIGHT. 

" If an object is seen early in a morning (which is not fre- 
quent,) it will be accomplished in a few hours afterwards. If 
at noon, it will be commonly accomplished that very day. If 
in the evening, perhaps that night ; if after candles be lighted, 
it will be accomplished that night : the later always in accom- 
plishment, by weeks, months, and sometimes years, according 
to the time of night the vision is seen, 

" When a shroud is perceived about one, it is a sure prog- 
nostic of death ; the time is judged according to the height of 
it about the person ; for if it is seen above the middle, death 
is not to be expected for the space of a year, and perhaps 
some months longer; and as it is frequently seen to ascend 
higher towards the head, death is concluded to be at hand 
within a few days, if not hours, as daily experience con- 
firms. Examples of this kind were shewn me, when the per- 
sons of whom the observations were then made, enjoyed 
perfect health. 

" One instance was lately foretold by a seer that was a 
novice, concerning the death of one of my acquaintance ; 
this was communicated to a few only, and with great confi- 
dence: I being one of the number, did not in the least regard 
it, until the death of the person, about the time foretold, did 
confirm me of the certainty of the prediction. The novice 
mentioned above, is now a skilful seer, as appears from many 
late instances ; he lives in the parish of St. Mary, the most 
northern in Skie. 

" If two or three women are seen at once, near a man's 
left hand, she that is next him will undoubtedly be his wife 
first, and so on, whether all three, or the man, be single or 
married at the time of the vision or not; of which there are 
several late instances among those of my acquaintance. It is 
an ordinary thing for them to see a man that is to come to 
the house shortly after ; and if he is not of the seer's ac- 
quaintance, yet he gives such a lively description of his stature, 
complexion, habit, &c. that upon his arrival he answers the 
character given him in all respects. 

" It is ordinary with them to see houses, gardens, and trees 
in places void of all three ; and this in progress of time uses 
to be accomplished : as at Mogshot, in the isle of Skie, where 



SECOND SIGHT. 293 

there were but a few sorry cow-houses, thatched with straw, 
yet in a very few years after, the vision, which appeared often, 
was accomplished, by the builing of several good houses on the 
very spot represented by the seers, and by the planting of 
orchards there. 

" To see a spark of fire fall upon one's arm or breast, is a 
forerunner of a dead child to be seen in the arms of those 
persons ; of which there are several fresh instances. 

u To see a seat empty at the time of one's sitting in it, is 
a presage of that person's death soon after. 

* When a novice, or one that has lately obtained the second 
sight, sees a vision in the night-time without doors, and comes 
near a fire, he presently falls into a swoon. 

" Some find themselves as it were in a crowd of people, 
having a corpse which they carry along with them ; and after 
such visions the seers come in sweating, and describe the 
people that appeared: if there be any of their acquaintance 
among them, they give an account of their names, as also of 
the bearers, but they know nothing concerning the corpse." 

Dr. Johnson, in his Journey to the Hebrides, says : 
" The Second-sight is an impression made either by 
the mind upon the eye, or by the eye upon the mind, 
by which things distant or future are perceived and seen 
as if they were present. A man on a journey far from 
home, falls from his horse ; another, who is perhaps at 
work about the house, sees him bleeding on the ground, 
commonly with a landscape of the place where the acci- 
dent befalls him. Another seer, driving home his cattle, 
or wandering in idleness, or musing in the sunshine, is 
suddenly surprised by the appearance of a bridal cere- 
mony, or funeral procession, and counts the mourners 
or attendants, of whom, if he knows them, he relates 
their names ; if he knows them not, he can describe the 
dresses. Things distant are seen at the instant when 
they happen. Of things future I know not that there 



234 SfcCOND SIGHT. 

is any rule for determining the time between the sight 
and the event. 

" By the term second-sight seems to be meant a 
mode of seeing superadded to that which nature be- 
stows. In the Earse it is called Taisch ; which signi- 
fies, likewise, a spectre, or a vision. I know not, nor 
is it likely, that the Highlanders ever examined, 
whether by Taisch, used for the second-sight, they mean 
the power of seeing, or the thing seen. I do not find 
it to be true, as it is reported, that to the second-sight 
nothing is presented but phantoms of evil. Good seems 
to have the same proportion in those visionary scenes as 
it obtains in real life : almost all remarkable events have 
evil for their basis, and are either miseries incurred, or 
miseries escaped. Our sense is so much stronger of 
what we suffer, than of what we enjoy, that the ideas 
of pain predominate in almost every mind. What is 
recollection but a revival of vexations, or history but a 
record of wars, treasons, and calamities? Death, which 
is considered as the greatest evil, happens to all. The 
greatest good be it what it may, is the lot but of a part. 
That they should often see death is to be expected, be- 
cause death is an event frequent and important. But 
they see likewise more pleasing incidents. A gentleman 
told me, that when he had once gone far from his own 
island, one of his labouring servants predicted his return, 
and described the livery of his attendants, which lie had 
never worn at home ; and which had been, without 
any previous design, occasionally given him." 

We now proceed to quote a few instances of this 
remarkable faculty : — 

Prognosticated Death. 

A Gentleman travelling in the Highlands, in the 
year 1654, with a retinue of servants, ordered one of 



SECOND SIGHT. 295 

them to precede him, and bespeak accommodation for 
him at an inn, in the neighbouring town. On entering the 
house the man suddenly stepped back, and fell by a stone, 
against which he struck his foot. On his master ques- 
tioning him as to his fears, he said, he must not lodge 
in that house. The master asked him the reason, when 
he replied, because a dead corpse would very shortly be 
carried out of it ; and that several persons met him at 
the door, carrying the body, when he cried out. He 
conjured his master not to lodge in the house, which in- 
duced the latter to inquire if there was any sick person 
there, when he was answered in the negative. The 
landlord, a strong healthy Highlander, died the next 
day, of an apoplectic fit. 

In January, 1652, Lieut. Col. Monro was quartered 
in a public-house in Ferrinlia, in Rosse. The Colonel 
and a friend were one evening seated by the fire, with 
a vacant chair on the left of the former. In the corner 
of a capacious chimney were two Highlanders, who had 
arrived that evening. While one of them was in con- 
versation with Monro's friend, the other looked strangely 
towards the Colonel; on being asked his meaning he 
desired him to rise from that chair, because it was an 
unlucky one. On being asked why, he said there was a 
dead man in the chair next to it. The Colonel replied, 
*' Well, if he be in the chair next me, [ may keep my 
own ; but describe the man.' ' The Highlander replied 
that he was a tall man, wearing a long grey coat, with 
boots, one of his legs hanging over the arm of the chair, 
his head«hanging on the other side, and his arm hanging 
down, as if broken. At that time there were some 
Knglish troops quartered in the adjoining village. About 
two days afterwards four or five of these troops rode by 



296 Second sight. 

the door of the inn, who, with the assistance of some 
servants were carrying one of their comrades, who had 
his arm broken. They brought him into the hall, and 
set him in the chair which the Highlander had singu- 
larized to Colonel Monro a few days previous. 

A gentleman connected with the family of Dr. Fer- 
rier, an officer in the army, was quartered early in life,- 
in the middle of the eighteenth century, near the castle 
of a gentleman in the north of Scotland, who was sup- 
posed to possess the second-sight. Strange rumours 
were afloat respecting the old chieftain : he had spoken 
to an apparition, which ran along the battlements of 
the house, and had never been cheerful afterwards : his 
prophetic vision excited surprise which was favoured by 
his retired habits. One day, while he was reading a 
play to the ladies of this family, the chief, who had been 
walking across the room, stopped suddenly, and assumed 
the look of a seer: he rang the bell, and ordered the 
groom to saddle a horse, to proceed immediately to a seat 
in the neighbourhood, and to inquire after the health of 

Lady ; if the account were favourable, he 

then directed him to call at another castle, to ask after 
another lady whom he named. The reader immediately 
closed his book, and declared that he would not proceed 
till these abrupt orders were explained, as he was con- 
fident they were produced by the second-sight. The 
chief was very unwilling to explain himself* but at 
length he owned that the door had appeared to open, 
and that a little woman, without a head, had entered 
the room; that the apparition indicated the sudden death 
of some person of his acquaintance, and the only two 
persons who resembled the figure were those ladies after 
whose health he had sent to inquire. 



DUEL PREVENTED. 



291 



A few hours afterwards the servant returned, with an 
account that one of the ladies had died, of an apoplectic 
tit, about the time when the vision appeared. 

Aubrey, Beaumont, Baxter. Glanvill, Scott, &c. 
abound with similar narratives, but contain none of less 
impeached veracity, than the preceding. 

DUEL PREVENTED. 

Thomas Horton, esq. a gentleman of fortune, had 
an intrigue with a lady, in which his younger brother 
was his rival. The lady was handsome, and of 
respectable fortune, but much inferior to the eldest son 
of the family, whose expectant fortune was near two 
thousand pounds per annum, after the death of his 
father Sir George HortGn. 

The younger gentleman was really in love with the 
lady, and inclined to marry her, if he could bring bis 
father to consent to it, and had two or three times 
spoken to the knight on the subject; nor was 
father averse to it, except that he thought her fortune 
too small. 

The rivalry between the two brothers continued for 
some time ; several quarrels took place, when one 
evening, the younger brother received a challenge 
from the elder, appointing time and place to meet tfee 
next morning at five o'clock. The father, who was 
then living, could know nothing of what had passed 
between his sons, for he was at his seat in Wiltshire, 
sixty miles from London, when this affair took place. 

On the morning appointed, they accordingly met, 
when the younger brother seeing his antagonist at a 
distance said, I am sure I am within time ; don't be 
impatient, Tom, I'll be with you presently. He had 
not proceeded many steps, before he saw his brother (as 

o3 



298 DUEL PREVENTED. 

he still thought him to be) advancing as if to meet him, 
with his drawn sword in his hand. 

You are very nimble with your sword, said he, 
what did you think I would not give you time to draw? 
but how was he surprised, when he came up to him, 
and found it was not his brother, but his father; and 
that, instead of a sword in his hand, he had a small 
cane, such as the old knight generally walked with. 

He was the more at a stand, because he supposed hi? 
father was, as is' said above, at his seat in Wiltshire, 
above sixty miles off ; however, he was out of doubt, 
when he not only saw him nearer hand, but that his 
father spoke to him. 

Why how now, Jack, said the old gentleman, what, 
challenge,* and draw upon your father ? 

You may be sure, Sir, said he, I did not suppose it 
was you. I make no doubt but you know whom I 
expected here ; it is a poor cowardly shift for him first 
to challenge his brother, and then send you in his 
stead. It is no time to talk now, Jack, said the 
father, I have your challenge here, and I am come to 
fight you, therefore draw. Draw ! says Jack, what, upon 
my father ! Heaven forbid ! no, I'll be mardered first. 

But his father advancing again, with a furious coun- 
tenance, Jack pulled out his sword and scabbard, and 
throwing it on the ground, cried out, there, Sir, take it, 
kill me with it ; what do you mean ? But his father 
running upon him, Jack turned from him, and seemed 
resolved to run from him : at which his father stooped, 
took up his sword, and stood still. The young gentle- 
man, surprised and amazed at the rencounter, knew not 



* When he thought he saw his brother with his sword in hi* hand, 
k i hud laid bis haul on his sword. 



DUEL PREVENTED. %&9 

wnat to do ; but retiring, observed that his father was 
gone. He, however, resolved, though he had no sWord, 
he would go to the place appointed, and see if his brother 
was come. Accordingly he returned to the place, and 
waited near two hours there, but heard nothing of his 
brother ; but on coming away, he found his sword lying- 
in the place where it was thrown down. This surprised 
him still more, and at length he took up the sword, arid 
went home wondering at tlie meaning of all this. 

He had not been long at home, before his brothers 
servant came to his lodgings with a civil message, to ask 
him from his brother, if he had not met with something 
extraordinary that morning, and to tell him, that he 
(his brother) was very ill or he would have called on 
him. The oddnessof this message added to his surprise; 
he called the messenger up stairs, and the following 
dialogue ensued : — 

J. What's the matter, Will ? bow is my brother? 
Will. My master gives bis service to you, Sir, and sent fine, to 
know how you are. 

J. Indeed; I'm a little out of order; but bow is your roaster, 
what's the matter ? 

Will. Why truly and J t please you, Sir, I don't know what's 
the matter, T think my master has been frightened this morning. 

J. Frightened Will ! with what, pr'ythee? your master is not 
easily frightened. 

Will, Why no, and't it please you, I know be is not ; but there hex 
been something extraordinary ; I don't know how it is, fur I was not 
with my master; but they talk in the house, that he has seen bis 
father, or seen an apparition in his father's shape, 

J. Why so have I too, Will ; now you fcgliten me indeed, for 1 
made light of it before ; why, it was my father to be sure. 

Will, No, Sir, alas, your father ! why, my old master was at 
Sarum, in Wiltshire, and very ill in his bed, but last Friday ; I earn* 
from him, my master sent me to him on an errand. 

J, And did yon see him yourself, Will ? 

Will HI take my oath 1 saw him, and speke to biro, in his ted 



30Q DUEL PREVENTED. 

And very ill he was ; I hope your worship will believe I know my old 
master. 

J. Yes, yes, you know him, no doubt, Will. I think you lived 
four years with him, did you not ? 

Will, I dressed and undressed him five years and a half, and't 
please you ; I think I may say I know him in his clothes or out of 
them. 

J. Well, William, and I hope you will allow that I know my 
father too, or him I have called father these thirty years. 

Will. Yes to he sure, and't please you. 

J. Well, then, tell my brother, it was either my father or the 
devil ; I both saw him and spoke with him, and I am frightened out 
of my wits. 

The servant returned with this message to his 
master, who immediately went with Will to see his 
brother. 

As soon as he came into the room to his brother, dear 
Jack said he, we have both played the fool, but forgive 
me my part, and tell me what has happened. The 
servant had previously acquainted the elder brother with 
the appearance of his father to him that morning. 

The other then related his story to the same purpose; 
that as he was coming to the place appointed, his father 
met him, and asked him whither he was going ; that he 
put him off, and told him he was going to Kensington 
to meet some gentlemen there, who were to go with him 
to Hampton -Court. That upon this, his father seemed 
very angry ; and said that he knew his errand as well 
as he did myself ; that he was going to murder his 
younger brother, and that he was come to satisfy his 
fury himself, and that he should murder him, not his 
brother. 

The brothers now became reconciled ; but Jack was 
uneasy about this being the real appearance of his father; 
and the words of his brother's man William ran in his 
mind all that night ; for as to this first meeting, it was 



DUEL PREVENTED. 301 

so taken up with the ecstaey of their reconciliation, that 
they had no time for any thing else ; but the next morn- 
ing the young gentleman went to see his brother, to 
return his visit. 

The young men were now very uneasy about one 
part of the story ; accordingly they set off for their 
father's residence. They found him at home, and very 
ill, nor had he even been from home, but was greatly 
concerned for the safety of his sons, upon the following 
occasion : 

One night he was surprised in his sleep with a dream, 
or rather a vision, that his two sons had fallen out about 
a mistress; that they had quarrelled so as to challenge 
each other, and were gone into the fields to fight ; but 
that somebody had given him notice of it, and he had 
got up in the morning at four o'clock to meet and pre- 
vent them. Upon this dream, he awaked in great 
disorder and terror; however, finding it but a dream he 
had composed his mind and gone to sleep again, but 
that he dreamed it again. That in consequence of this 
dream, he had sent a servant to ascertain if there had 
been any such breach ; and earnestly to press them, if any 
breach had happened, that they would consent to let 
him mediate between them. This was the contents of 
a letter, which arrived in town a few hours after they 
were set out. It should be here mentioned, that 
the old gentleman could not have been in London, for 
he had scarce been a whole day from off his bed. — Sin- 
clair's Invisible World. 

THE SAMPFORD GHOST, in 1810. 

The narrative of the Sampford apparition is, we be- 
lieve, the last of its kind on record, of authenticated cha- 
racter. It excited intense interest in the county of Devon, 



302 



THE SAMPFORD GHOST* 



which was not a little increased by the circumstance of 
a clergyman of the established church, the Rev. C. C* 
Colton, publishing an account of the whole transaction t 
It took place at the house of one Mr. John Chave, in 
the village of Sampford Reverell, Devon, about five 
miles from Tiverton, in the year 1810. 

As is usual on all such occasions a variety of wilful 
misrepresentations were propagated on the subject; but 
the history published by Mr. Colton is certainly en- 
titled to our preference, on account of the perspicuity 
which characterises its details, and with which we 
shall proceed forthwith. 

Mr. Colton, says the house became extremely trou- 
blesome, speaking in September, 3 810, although long 
before that time some very unaccountable things had 
occasionally taken place in it. An apprentice boy had 
expressed himself often dreadfully alarmed by the appa- 
rition of a woman, and had heard some extraordinary 
sound in the night, but little or no attention was paid to 
it. But about April the inhabitants of the house were 
alarmed in the following manner : noises and blows by 
day were heard, extremely loud, in every apartment of 
the house. On going up stairs dnd stamping on any of 
the boards of the floor in any room, say five or six times, 
or more, corresponding blows, but generally louder, and 
more in number, would be instantly returned ; the vibra- 
tion of these boards caused by the violence of the blows, 
would be sensibly felt through a shoe or boot, on the 
sole of the foot, and the dust was thrown up from the 
boards that were beaten, with such velocity, as to affect 
the eyes of the spectators. 

At mid-day the cause of these effects would announce 
its approach, by amazingly loud knocking in some 
apartment or other of the house, above stairs or below, 



THE SAMPFORD GHOST. 303 

as might happen, for at times more than a dozen wit- 
nesses have been present at once. 

These noises would very often, and in repeated in- 
stances, absolutely follow the persons through any of 
the upper apartments, and faithfully answer the stamp- 
ing of their feet, wherever they went. And if persons 
were in different rooms, and one stamped with his foot 
in one room, the sound was repeated, and in an instant 
was repeated on a stamp in another room, and these 
phenomena by day continued almost incessantly for 
about five weeks, when they gradually gave place to 
others still more curious and alarming, viz. There are 
two apartments in this house: whatever females sleep 
in either of these apartments, (with the exception of 
one single instance,) experienced some of them all, and 
all of them some of the following sensations ; they are 
most dreadfully beaten, as bye-standers may hear and 
witness. I am quite certain I have heard myself more 
than two hundred blows given in the course of a night. 
The blows given can be compared to nothing but a very 
strong man striking with the greatest force he is master 
of, with a closed fist on the bed ; which leave great 
soreness, and visible marks; I saw a swelling at least as 
big as a turkey's egg on the cheek of Ann Mills ; she 
voluntarily made oath that she was alone in the bed 
when she received the blows from some invisible hand. 
Mrs. Dennis, and Mary Woodbury, have both sworn 
voluntarily before me, and Mr. Sully the exciseman, and 
Mr. Covett, that they were so much beaten, as to ex- 
perience a peculiar kind of numbness, and were sore 
many days after ; and that the shrieks he heard himself, 
and Mr. Govett, surgeon, were so terrible that they could 
not be counterfeited. 



304 THE STAMPFORD GHOST. 

Mr. Chave, the occupier of the house, deposed, that 
one night the two servants were so much agitated that 
they refused to sleep any longer in their apartment; 
Mr. Chave permitted them in the dead of the night to 
bring their bed and bed-clothes into the room where he 
and Mrs. Chave slept ; after they had been quiet about 
half an hour, and the light put out, a large iron candle- 
stick began to move most rapidly over the whole room. 
He could hear no footsteps, but in the act of ringing the 
bell, the candlestick was violently thrown at his head, 
which it narrowly missed. Mr. Searle, late keeper of 
the county gaol, and a friend, watched one night ; they 
saw a sword placed by them on the foot of a bed, with 
a large folio Testament placed on it, thrown violently 
against the wall, seven feet off. Mr. Taylor deposed 
that in going into the room in consequence of the shrieks 
of the, women, the sword that was before lying on the 
floor, he saw clearly suspended in the centre of the 
room, with its point towards him : in about a minute it 
fell to the ground with a loud noise. 

On September 1 4 4 h, Ann Mills deposed on oath before 
Mr. Sully and myself, that she was beaten so violently 
on that night, and while striking a light she received a 
very severe blow on the back, and the tinder-box was 
forcibly wrenched out of her hands and thrown into the 
centre of the room. 

Mr. Sully the exciseman, and his wife, are ready to 
swear to the truth of what they have heard of these 
noises and thumpings, &c; James Dodds. cooper, volun- 
tarily made oath, September 14th, that in his work- 
shop adjoining Chave' s house, he had constant opportu- 
nities of hearing these noises. 

The Rev. Gentleman said the names of all the fe- 



THE SAMPFORD GHOST. 305 

males that have suffered are as follows, Mary Dermis, 
sen. Mary Dennis, jun. Martba Woodbury, Anne Mills, 
Mrs. Pitts', and Sally Case. 

I have seen a sword when placed in the hands of some 
of these women, repeatedly and violently wrested out of 
them, after a space of a few minutes, and thrown with 
a very loud noise sometimes into the middle of the room ; 
sometimes still more violently against the wall. This 
sword I have heard taken up, and with it beat the bed, 
by its shaking the handle in a particular manner; I have 
placed a large folio Greek Testament, weighing eight or 
nine pounds, on the bed ; it has been repeatedly thrown 
into the centre of the room. Mr. Pullen, Mr. Betty, 
and himself have placed the Testament on the end of 
the bedstead, in such a manner that no part touched the 
bed-clothes, but it was thrown with a loud noise from 
the foot of the bed to the head: all this time the women 
were in bed, and he is sure they never moved, and he 
administered an oath to them the next morning in the 
presence of the same gentlemen. I have often heard 
the curtains of the bed most violently agitated, accom- 
panied with a loud and almost indescribable motion of 
the rings. These curtains, to prevent their motion, were 
often tied up, each one of them in one large knot, (be- 
ing four.) Every curtain in that bed w r as agitated, and 
the knots thrown and whirled about with such rapidity, 
that it w r ould have been unpleasant to have been in their 
vortex, or within the sphere of their action. Mr. Taylor, 
and Mr. Chave, of Mere, (no relation to the occupier,) 
were witness to all this,and that took up about two minutes, 
and concluded with a noise resembling the tearing of a 
person's shirt from top to bottom, but on examination, 
a rent was found across the grain of a strong new cotton 
curtain, I have heard in the presence of other witnesses 



306 THE SAMPFORD GHOST. * 

footsteps walking by me, and round me, and one or two 
candles burning, yet could see nothing. Mr. Quick 
heard it come down stairs like a man's foot in a slipper, 
and passed through the wall. I have been in the act 
of opening a door, which was already half open, 
when a violent rapping was produced on the opposite of 
the same door ; J paused a moment, and the rapping 
continued; I suddenly opened the door, yet I can swear 
I could see nothing, with a candle in my hand. I have 
been in one of the rooms that has a large modern win- 
dow, when from the noises, knockings, blows on the 
bed, and rattling of the curtains, I did really begin to 
think the whole chamber was falling in. Mr. Taylor 
was sitting in the chair the whole time ; the females 
were so terrified that large drops stood on their fore- 
heads. When in the act of beating the females in one 
bed most violently, and from the sound of the blows, 
apparently near the foot of the bed, I have rushed to 
the spot, but it has instantly been heard at the same 
moment near the head of the other bed. 

Mr. Colton's statement was corroborated, by the fol- 
lowing affidavit : — 

* I now proceed to a short detail of circumstances, to the 
truth of which, I have voluntarily sworn, with a safe and 
clear conscience; I am well aware that all who know me, 
would not require the sanction of an oath, but as I am now 
addressing the public, I must consider myself before a tri- 
bunal, of which my acquaintance constitutes a very small 
part. And first, I depose solemnly, that after an attendance 
of six nights, (not successive,) at Mr. Chave's house, in the 
village of Sampford, and with a mind perfectly unprejudiced, 
after the most minute investigation, and closest inspection of 
all the premises, I am utterly unable to account for any of the 
phenomena I have there seen and heard, and labour at thii 
moment under no small perplexity, arising from a determine- 



THE SAMPFORD GHOST* 307 

tion not slightly to admit of supernatural interference and an 
impossibility of hitherto tracing these effects to any human 
cause. I farther depose, that in my visits to Mr. Chave's 
house, at Sampford, I never had any other motive, direct or 
indirect, avowed or concealed, but an earnest, and I presume, 
not a culpable wish, to trace these phenomena to their true 
and legitimate cause. Also, that I have in every instance, 
found the people of the house most willing and ready to con- 
tribute every thing in their power, and to co-operate with me 
in the detection of the cause of those unaccountable sights, 
and violent blows and sounds. 

" Also, that I am so deeply convinced of the difficulty of 
proving these effects to be human, that I stand engaged to 
forfeit a very considerable sum to the poor of my parish, 
whenever this business, now going on at Sampford, shall be 
made appear to have been produced by any human art or 
ingenuity, collectively, or individually exerted. Also, that 
I have, in the presence of many gentlemen, repeatedly sworn 
the domestics to this effect, namely, — that they were not only 
utterly ignorant of the cause of those circumstances, which 
then astonished us, but also of the causes of many other 
things, equally unaccountable, which we ourselves did not 
hear, nor see, but to the truth of which they also swore, no 
less than to their perfect ignorance of the means by which 
they were produced. Also, that I have affixed a seal with a 
crest, to every door, cavity, &c. in the house, through which 
any communication could be carried on ; — that this seal was 
applied to each end of sundry pieces of paper, in such a 
manner, that the slightest attempt to open such doors, or to 
pass such cavities, must have broken these papers, in which 
case my crest must have prevented their being replaced with- 
out discovery ; that none of these papers were deranged or 
broken; and also, that the phenomena that night were as 
unaccountable as ever. Also, that I have examined several 
women, quite unconnected with the family of Mr. Chave ; 
but who, some from curiosity, and some from compassion, 
have slept in this house — that many of them related the facts 
on oath — that all of them wished to be so examined, if re- 
quired, and lastly, that they all agreed, without one excep- 



308 THE SAMPFORD GHOST, 

tion, in this particular, — that their night's rest was invariably 
destroyed by violent blows from some invisible hand — by an 
unaccountable and rapid drawing and withdrawing of the 
curtains — by a suffocating and almost inexpressible weight, 
and by a repetition of sounds, so loud, as at times to shake the 
whole room. 

" To the truth of the above cited particulars, I voluntarily 
make oath, in the presence of B. Wood, Master in Chan- 
cery, Tiverton. 

«B. Wood, M. C." 

" I shall here subscribe the names of a few, selected from a 
cloud of witnesses, on whose minds a sensible experience of 
similar facts hath produced similar convictions; facts, which 
though they are willing to substantiate on oath, they are 
utterly unable to trace to any human agency. The names 
are as follows :— < 

Mr. John Govett, Surgeon, Tiverton. 

Mr. Betty, Surgeon, Tiverton. 

Mr. Piillin, Merchant, Tiverton. 

Mr. QmcK, Landlord of the While House, Tiverton. 

Mr. Merson, Surgeon, Sampford. 

John Cowling, Esq. Sampford. 

Mr. Chave, Mere, near Huntsham. 

All these gentlemen are ready, if called on, to depone tc^ 
their having witnessed circumstances in this house at Samp- 
ford, to them perfectly inexplicable, and for which they are 
utterly incapable to account. 

C. Colton." 

Mr. Colton published an appendix to his narrative, 
which was closed by the folio wirg affidavit : — 

" Thursday, September 27th, 1810, John Chave, William 
Taylor, James* Dodge, and Sally Case, voluntarily make oath 
this day as follows : — ' That they are entirely ignorant of the 
cause of all those extraordinary circumstances that have and 
are occurring in the house of Mr. Chave, in the parish of 
Sampford. Also, that they have never made in or on any 
part of the premises, any sounds or noises, by day or night, 



THE SAMPFORD GHOST. 309 

by blows, or knockings, either with or without an instrument, 
in order to induce any one human being whatever to be- 
lieve, or even to think, that there was any thing unaccount- 
able or supernatural in the house. . Also, that they have 
never requested any other person so to do, and that they 
firmly believe no such attempts have been made by others. 
Also, that they have repeatedly heard in mid-day most violent 
and loud noises in the house, when numerous persons have 
been assembled, some in the upper, and some in the lower 
apartments, at the same time ; and all of them anxious and 
eager to discover the cause. Also, that the marks on the ceiling 
have been made, by the persons trying, but in vain, to imitate 
the same sounds. Also, that to the best of their knowledge 
and belief, there are no subterraneous passages in or about 
the house/ — Sworn before me, the 27th of September, 1810. 
" J. Govett, Mayor of Tiverton." 

Talley, the landlord of the house, whose interest it 
certainly was to rid his property of such visitations at 
the moment that he brought it into the market for sale, 
now pretended to have discovered the whole affair ; but 
this was on his own surmise, and not on the confession 
of either party. The house was certainly in a shattered 
condition, and somewhat out of repair : to this he as- 
cribed the shaking, &c. ■ A cooper, a mopstick, and a 
bludgeon, were likewise, found concealed in the house, 
one night when Talley had arranged to sleep, there ; 
but forsooth ! might not the cooper and his implements 
have been placed there by Talley ? With this broom- 
stick and bludgeon, the cooper was said to have pro- 
duced the noises! One Taylor, a young wag, was 
magnified into a necromancer on this occasion, and was 
said to have communicated his cabalistic attainments to 
Sally the servant ; thus attempting to prove they were 
both in the plot. This pretended exposure drew 
down the vengeance of the populace on Chave at Tiver- 



310 THE SAMPFORD GHOST. 

ton, insomuch, that he narrowly escaped with life. 
Chave was even compelled to fire a pistol on his as- 
sailants, and one man fell dead on the spot. 

Soon after this Mr. Colton writes thus:* "An affair is 
still going on in this neighbourhood, and known to the 
public by the title of the Sampford Ghost, which might 
puzzle the materialism of Hume, or the immaterialism of 
Berkely. Here we have a visible and incomprehensible 
agent, producing visible and sensible effects. The 
newspapers were not quite so accurate as they might 
have been in their statements on this occasion. First 
the real truth is, that the slightest shadow of an expla- 
nation has not yet been given, and that there exist no 
good grounds even for suspecting any one. The public 
were next given to understand that the disturbances had 
ceased ; whereas it is well known to all in this neigh- 
bourhood, that they continue with unabating violence 
to this hour. Soon after this, we were told, by way of 
explanation, that the whole affair was a trick of the 
tenant, who wished to purchase the house cheap — the 
stale solution of all haunted houses. But such an idea 
never entered his thoughts, even if the present proprie- 
tors were able to sell the house; but it happens to be 
entailed. And at the vary time when this w^as said, all 
the neighbourhood knew that Mr. Chave was unre- 
mitting in his exertions to procure another habitation 
in Sampford on any terms. And to confirm this, these 
disturbances have at length obliged the whale family to 
make up their minds to, quit the premises, at a very 



• Notes to "Hypocrisy/' a satire, 8vo, 1812. Mr. Colton is 
the author of " Laeon, or many things in few words," 2 vols, 
8vo. universally allowed to be one of the most piquant work* 
in modern literature. 



THfi SAMPFORD GHOST. 31 1 

great loss and inconvenience, as Mr. Chave has ex- 
pended a considerable sum in improvements, and could 
have continued on a reduced rent. 

" When one of the labourers on the canal was shot, 
the newspapers informed us, that this took place at the 
house of the Mr. Chave above mentioned. The fact is, 
that this circumstance happened in another part of the 
village,, at the house of another Mr. Chave, neither 
related nor connected with the Mr. Chave in question. 

" If these nocturnal and diurnal visitations are the 
effects of a plot, the agents are marvellously secret 
and indefatigable. Tt has been going on more than 
three years, and if it be the result of human machi- 
nation, there must be more than sixty persons con- 
cerned in it. Now I cannot but think it rather strange 
that a secret by which no one can possibly get any 
thing, should be so well kept ; particularly when I in- 
form the public, what the newspapers would not, or 
could not acquaint them with; namely, that a reward 
of two hundred and fifty pounds has been advertised 
for any one who can give such information, as may 
lead to a discovery ; nearly two years have elapsed, and 
no claimant has appeared. I myself, who have been 
abused as the dupe at one time, and the promoter of 
this affair at another, was the first to come forward with, 
one hundred pounds, and the late mayor of Tiverton 
has now an instrument in his hands, empowering him to 
call on me for the payment of that sum, to any one who 
can explain the cause of the phenomena. 

" Many circumstances, if possible still more extraordi- 
nary than those I have related, have also occurred, but 
as they do not offer the least clue that may enable us 
to discover the cause that produced them, I shall do the 
public no service by relating them. A gentleman who 



312 THE SAMPFORD GHOST, 

commanded a company in the Hereford militia, was 
stationed at Sampford : his curiosity was much excited, 
and he sat up in Mr. Chave's house, at different times, 
thirty nights. I dined with him at Ottery barracks ; 
his brother officers were anxious to know his opinion of 
that affair. He immediately replied, ' Mr. Colton, who 
sits opposite, has engaged to give one hundred pounds 
to any person who can discover it. If he will hand 
me. half a guinea across the table, I engage before you 
all to pay the money instead of him, whenever he is' 
called upon.' I did not take his offer. A clear proof 
that neither of us think a discovery the most probable 
thins: in the world/' 



THE END. 



LONDON : 

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